The artist is the confidant of nature, flowers carry on dialogues with him through the graceful bending of their stems and the harmoniously tinted nuances of their blossoms.

Every electron tells a story, and our job is to listen with attosecond precision.

To lose one parent may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness.

我是行尸走肉，但我只是一个说话的脑袋，一个漂浮的僵尸，但我有一个地下兄弟。

我们这年代的人读书太多而不聪明，想得太多而不美丽。