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对于那样的人来说,时间是过剩的,是他们看着慢慢流干的桶。但实际上,他认为,它是你手中捧着的一滩发光的泥水;你应该用所有的精力去保护它。
To men like that, time was a surfeit, a barrel they watched slowly drain. When really, he thinks, it’s a glowing puddle you carry in your hands; you should spend all your energy protecting it.
声音是一种在你体内的乐器。它是唯一你看不见的乐器。
We are all prisoners of our own experiences, and no one can truly understand another's pain.