我不知道为什么人们期望艺术要有意义。他们接受了生活没有意义的事实。
I don't know why people expect art to make sense. They accept the fact that life doesn't make sense.
In my solitude of heart I feel the sigh of this widowed evening veiled with mist and rain.
译文：年年岁岁繁花依旧，岁岁年年看花之人却不相同。赏析：时光流逝，物是人非。花有重开时，人无再少年。
秘密就像影子 - 时间越久拖得越长。
A man must strive to do his best, and then accept the consequences with equanimity.
我喜欢表演，但我也喜欢独处。