我们都在阴沟里，但仍有人仰望星空。
Pain is not just a sensation; it's a complex biological response that tells us something is wrong.
Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend, Before we too into the Dust descend; Dust into Dust, and under Dust to lie, Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and—sans End!
The past is always present in the work.
The culture industry not so much adapts to the reactions of its customers as it adjusts them.
A writer is a mirror reflecting the world's complexities.
Every book is a journey, and every journey changes you a little.
The artist must be a servant of the invisible.
