西风落日草斑斑，云薄秋空鸟独还。两鬓霜华千里客，马蹄又上太行山。
译文：西风落日下野草斑驳，秋日天空云淡风轻，一只孤鸟飞过。我这个两鬓斑白的游子，又骑着马登上了太行山。
Every artist dips his brush in his own soul, and paints his own nature into his pictures.
写作的艺术是发现自我的艺术。
The interplay between mathematics and physics is the dance of the cosmos, choreographed by the laws of nature.
爱情并不遵从我们的想象。爱情的神秘在于它的纯洁与纯粹。