April is the cruelest month, breeding lilacs out of the dead land, mixing memory and desire, stirring dull roots with spring rain.
四月是最残忍的月份，从死去的土地里培育出丁香，把回忆和欲望混合，又用春雨搅动迟钝的根芽。
抽象允许一种自由，而具象有时无法做到。
每一块石头都有一个故事；我们的责任是以负责任的方式揭示它。
The act of writing is an act of resistance against the forces that seek to erase us.
Time is a concept that is derived from the way we perceive change.
Writing is a way of living, a way of surviving, a way of fighting against the absurdity of existence.
我们所见的和所知的关系从未确定。