在你发明的时候，不要选择。在你草拟的时候，不要审查。在你写初稿的时候，不要反思。

人生中自有痴情之人，这种遗憾与风月无关。

Every stroke of the brush carries the weight of personal and collective memory.

I have to remind myself that some birds aren't meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright. And when they fly away, the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up DOES rejoice. Still, the place you live in is that much more drab and empty that they're gone. I guess I just miss my friend.