It doesn’t matter how far you might rise. At some point you are bound to stumble because if you’re constantly doing what we do， raising the bar.
秋天已经结束，白昼仍然漫长，王粲（字仲宣）怀念远方的心情更加凄凉
艺术是当你不知道该做什么时做的事情。
The truth about the world, he said, is that anything is possible. Had you not seen it all from birth and thereby bled it of its strangeness it would appear to you for what it is, a hat trick in a medicine show, a fevered dream, a trance bepopulate with chimeras having neither analogue nor precedent, an itinerant carnival, a migratory tentshow whose ultimate destination after many a pitch in many a mudded field is unspeakable and calamitous beyond reckoning.