家不是一个地方,而是一种感觉。
文学之美在于它能够超越国界,连接不同文化的心灵。
The clouds over the land now rose like mountains, and the coast was only a long green line with the gray blue hills behind it. The water was a dark blue now, so dark that it was almost purple.
在某种程度上,我们都是自己时代的囚徒。