另一个人的心是一片黑暗的森林，无论它曾经多么接近自己的心。
The heart of another is a dark forest, always, no matter how close it has been to one's own.
We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. Medicine, law, business, engineering: these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love...these are what we stay alive for.
生活不总是彩虹和蝴蝶，是妥协让我们前进。
The novel is the best instrument to explore human complexity.
天下战乱不断，朝中何人敢主动请战？