Everyone discusses my art and pretends to understand, as if it were necessary to understand, when it is simply necessary to love.
書籍是靈魂的鏡子。
Stray birds of summer come to my window to sing and fly away。 And yellow leaves of autumn, which have no songs, flutter and fall there with a sigh。
人與權(quán)力的斗爭就是記憶與遺忘的斗爭。