You go up in the meadow with respect to such sit quietly, from my a bit far place. I am looking at you with canthus, your what word also nevers mention it. The language is misapprehensive germ. But, everyday, you can sit a few nearlier from me...
你就这样静坐在草地上，离我稍远的地方。我用眼角瞅着你，你什么话也别说。语言是误会的根源。但是，每天，你可以坐得离我近一些……
逝者从未真正离去，他们活在我们讲述的故事中。
I am a formalist.
艺术家消失得越多，他的作品就出现得越多。
There is nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact.
马跑不起来都是因为太瘦；人不能扬眉吐气就是因为贫穷。