当它消逝时,你才会明白爱情曾是一份多么珍贵的礼物。你将会如此痛苦。所以,回去吧,为了挽留它而去奋斗。
To men like that, time was a surfeit, a barrel they watched slowly drain. When really, he thinks, it’s a glowing puddle you carry in your hands; you should spend all your energy protecting it.
Beauty of whatever kind, in its supreme development, invariably excites the sensitive soul to tears.
小说是一面行走在路上的镜子,不仅反映世界,也反映读者的灵魂。