You may think I’m small, but I have a universe inside my mind.
The world is not run from where he thinks. Not from castle walls, but from countinghouses, not by the call of the bugle but by the click of the abacus, not by the grate and click of the broadsword but by the scrape of the pen.
音乐是我的生命,没有音乐我不知道怎么办。