One is the happiest thing is that somebody loves you.When you are at my time， I absent-minded，When I come to you， when you have gone.We are always in a meeting to miss， losing a lot of.However， I want to say this is because we are still young.No， perhaps this is our life.From then on， I always looked back the road.
No arts; no letters; no society; and which is worst of all, continual fear and danger of violent death; and the life of man, solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.
