Every painting tells a story, but not everyone can read it.

记忆是个奇怪的东西。它不像我以为的那样运作。它不是可以重播的电影。它更像是一个你讲给自己的故事，而每次讲述这个故事都会改变。

A Book of Verses underneath the Bough, A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread—and Thou Beside me singing in the Wilderness— Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow!