The time at our disposal each day is elastic; the passions we feel dilate it, those we inspire contract it; and habit fills up what remains.
我们都会死去,所有人,多么荒谬!这种孤独的事实应该让我们彼此相爱可是并没有。我们在琐事中变得恐惧平庸,我们被虚无啃噬。
"The act of writing is an act of resistance, a way to reclaim one's voice and identity."