The past is hidden somewhere outside the realm, beyond the reach of intellect, in some material object (in the sensation which that material object will give us) which we do not suspect.
我疯了,我疯了。这就是我大脑的工作方式。我不正常。我的想法不一样。我的大脑一直在运转。
一个好人生命中最美好的部分:他那些微小、无名、被遗忘的善行和爱。