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我们死去时包含着丰富的爱人和部落,我们吞下的味道,我们投入并游出的身体,仿佛智慧的河流,我们爬进去的角色,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.
人类就像江河一样:木杖刚把波浪划开,波浪又立刻流到一起去了。
音乐让我勇敢,也让我脆弱。
The historian’s task is to understand the past, the novelist’s to make it live.