Tragic art, as it developed in the theaters of ancient Greece, in the fifth century B.C., was essentially an art form devoted to tracing how people fail, and also according them a level of sympathy, which ordinary life would not necessarily accord them. A few years ago, I was thinking about this, and I went to "The Sunday Sport," a tabloid newspaper I don't recommend you start reading if you're not familiar with it already.

圆点是我的语言，宇宙是我的画布。

Inside us there is something that has no name, that something is what we are.

The truth is not in the light, but in the shadow.

The bond market is the ultimate barometer of market expectations.