The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line, Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.

We are all blind, but some of us can see.

False happiness renders men stern and proud， and that happiness is never communicated. True happiness renders them kind and sensible， and that happiness is always shared.

我跑步不是为了成为最好的，而是为了被记住。