The true capital is the human creativity, not money.
I do not like proper novels. In proper novels people say things like, ‘I am veined with iron, with silver and with streaks of common mud. I cannot contract into the firm fist which those clench who do not depend on stimulus.’ What does this mean? I do not know. Nor does Father. Nor do the people who write these books.
自然是最伟大的艺术家。
The pain of loss is the price we pay for the joy of love.
点击、点赞与转发,让我们以为自己在思考。
In things indifferent, nothing is preferable to anything else.