译文:年纪大了经不起生死离别,在异乡的日子里眼泪总打湿衣裳。
成为一名作家就是在每天的寒冷时刻坐在桌前写作;不是等待从胸骨中迸发出天才的蓝色火焰——只是写作。
If you enter this world knowing you are loved and you leave this world knowing the same, then everything that happens in between can be dealt with.
To write is to give shape to the formless.