夏天的飞鸟，飞到我窗前唱歌，又飞去了。 秋天的黄叶，他们没有什麼可唱的，只是叹息一声，飞落在那里。

She felt a strange sense of belonging, as if she had finally found her place in the world.

Music is the universal language of mankind.

Suspicion against every kind of authority grew out of this experience， an attitude which has never again left me.

I have nothing to declare except my Genius.

管他呢，干就完了。