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我们死去时,内心充满了爱人和部落的丰富,我们吞下的味道,我们投入并游过的身体,仿佛智慧的河流,我们攀爬过的角色,仿佛树木,我们隐藏的恐惧,仿佛洞穴。
We die containing a richness of lovers and tribes, tastes we have swallowed, bodies we have plunged into and swum up as if rivers of wisdom, characters we have climbed into as if trees, fears we have hidden in as if caves.
The mind is a stream of processes, not a collection of objects.
In every word, there is a world waiting to be discovered.
The history of life is written in A, T, C, and G.
世界充满了矛盾,我试图在我的作品中探索它们。