我要向你走去,你像我走来已经很久了。
We always use poetic language to describe our embarrassment in the cracks of youth.
The source of all suffering is attachment.
To try to write love is to confront the muck of language: that region of hysteria where language is both too much and too little, excessive and impoverished.
每一颗水果都在讲述一个故事 - 关于阳光、雨水和人类双手的呵护。