A writer's life is a highly vulnerable, almost naked activity. We don't have to weep about that. The writer makes his choice and is stuck with it. But it is true to say that you are open to all the winds, some of them icy indeed. You are out on your own, out on a limb. You find no shelter, no protection — unless you lie — in which case of course you have constructed your own protection and, it could be argued, become a politician.
作家的生活是高度脆弱、幾乎赤裸的活動(dòng)。我們不必為此哭泣。作家做出了選擇并堅(jiān)持它。但可以說(shuō)，你向所有的風(fēng)敞開(kāi)，其中一些確實(shí)冰冷。你獨(dú)自一人，處于危險(xiǎn)之中。你找不到庇護(hù)，沒(méi)有保護(hù)——除非你撒謊——在這種情況下，你當(dāng)然已經(jīng)構(gòu)建了自己的保護(hù)，可以說(shuō)，成為了一個(gè)政治家。
Singing is not about perfection, but about emotion and connection.
2012年莫言諾貝爾文學(xué)獎(jiǎng)演講稿
一個(gè)人的死亡是悲劇，數(shù)百萬(wàn)人的死亡是統(tǒng)計(jì)數(shù)字。
即使你擁有世界上所有的天賦，如果不努力，也無(wú)濟(jì)于事。