世界对着它的爱人，把它浩瀚的面具揭下了。它变小了，小如一首歌，小如一回永恒的接吻。

今天不努力劳动耕种，明天就没有财富货物。

The longer life goes on, the fewer those around you to challenge your account of things, to remind you that life is not as you tell it, but as you remember it.

我想写一个愤怒的女人，她有权利愤怒，而且不会为此道歉。