钱不说话，它咒骂。
I dream that my son will grow up to be a good person, a free person. I dream that someday you will return to revisit the land of our childhood. I dream that flowers will bloom in the streets again...and kites will fly in the skies!
Life is a gorgeous robe, crawling with fleas.
A person's a person, no matter how small.
Dreams don't run away, it's always ourselves who run away.
A writer is, after all, only half his book. The other half is the reader and from the reader the writer learns.
