Writing is that neutral, composite, oblique space where our subject slips away, the negative where all identity is lost, starting with the very identity of the body writing.

伟大的沙漠为了绿叶的爱而燃烧，而她摇摇头、笑著、飞走了。

真相很少是纯粹的，也从来不是简单的。

记忆是我们不断告诉自己我们的故事的方式——并且告诉别人一个稍微不同版本的故事。

The city is a shared dream.

When you can live forever, what do you live for?

我唯一上瘾的就是赢。