睡眠,那些小小的死亡切片——我多么厌恶它们。
Sleep, those little slices of death — how I loathe them.
一个好故事是在翻完最后一页后仍久久萦绕在脑海中的故事。
The basis of shame is not some personal mistake of ours, but the ignominy, the humiliation we feel that we must be what others want us to be.