但我爱她，她可以褪色，可以萎谢，怎样都可以；但我只看她一眼，万般柔情，涌上心头。
But I love her. She could fade and wither， how can； but I just look at her， all the tenderness， Chung on the heart.
To write is to confront the ghosts of our past, to give them a voice, and perhaps, to set them free.
写作就是面对我们过去的幽灵，给它们一个声音，也许，让它们自由。
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.
保持平常心，接受当下的自己，把自己做好，往往就能把事情做好：平常人也可以做非常事。
Science is a way of thinking much more than it is a body of knowledge.