四月是最残忍的月份,从死去的土地里培育出丁香,把回忆和欲望混合,又用春雨搅动迟钝的根芽。
在一个没有上帝的世界里,我们必须创造自己的意义,即使它最终是无意义的。
"We all have our time machines. Some take us back, they're called memories. Some take us forward, they're called dreams."
The very definition of the real becomes: that of which it is possible to give an equivalent reproduction... The real is not only what can be reproduced, but that which is always already reproduced. That is the hyperreal.