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Our senses define our reality in ways we're only beginning to understand.
The bitterest creature under heaven is the wife who discovers that her husband's bravery is only bravado.
Maybe every man has had two such women, at least two. Married to a red rose, over time, the red becomes a mosquito blood stain on the wall, while the white remains "moonlight before the bed"; married to a white rose, the white becomes a grain of sticky rice on the clothes, while the red remains a cinnabar mole on the heart.