暮春三月,穿上春天的衣服,约上五六人,带上六七个童子,在沂水边沐浴,在高坡上吹风,一路唱着歌而回

头顶上，星星悄无声息地熄灭了。

Reality is always richer than any idea we can have of it.

The strength of the pack is the wolf, and the strength of the wolf is the pack.

每一首诗都是一场小革命。