你妈妈那么抑郁是因为我。

Truth is like a blanket that always leaves your feet cold. You push it, stretch it, it'll never be enough. You kick at it, beat it, it'll never cover any of us. From the moment we enter crying to the moment we leave dying, it will just cover your face as you wail and cry and scream。

小说是让不可见的东西变得可见的艺术。

质量不是功能；它是一种纪律。

他的诗，如同几何圆规般，画著圆，时而亲密贴近，时而广及全球，唯一不变的是，圆规的尖端总是插定在囚室里。