The ego is not master in its own house.
自我并非自己家中的主人。
Every song has its own journey.
建筑应当回应其环境,而不是忽视它。
夏天的飞鸟,飞到我窗前唱歌,又飞去了。秋天的黄叶,他们没有什麼可唱的,只是叹息一声,飞落在那里。
世间有无数技艺高超的画家,却画不出内心的伤心。
Lock up your libraries if you like; but there is no gate, no lock, no bolt that you can set upon the freedom of my mind.