水流似的不可留

[2vt8c2p4]

人与动物最大不同的就是，人是在为别人眼中的自己而活着，我们需要的不是雀跃或自责，我们需要的是一面镜子 ，包含面前的和心底的。镜子永远是最实在的。在镜子眼前,Polo Ralph Lauren pas cher，我们会理解什么才是温和漠然。

世间，兴许只有泪水才干算是至情至圣了。在时下连笑颜都成了商品，泪水显得犹其可贵，甚至可恶 ,polo homme。真正的心声可能表示出来，当然象征着至少还没失去人的天性，人道的自身是让人敬佩的。
初学驾车的人们，头脑里的脚下只是三样货色：油门，制动，离合。这三者是需要近于完善的配合操作，能力幻想 的起步和踏上征途。细想人生也是这样,beats by dre，事业，家庭，人际，也须要如是的默契，形似绝对独破，神是缺一不可。

世间所有的情感，亲情友谊爱情，表面是形式各异，心灵上则是同一的。这不是弄虚作假,Polo Ralph Lauren，恐怖的是：有良多的人，甚至是最亲热的人，可到最后你才发现，其实他们并不懂你。
高处不胜寒，实在说的是寂寞。有时低处也不胜寒。位置是高处，境界未必是高处。由此看来，地位的高下，与心 情有时是无关的，或者偶然会是反比例。这不奇异，名义的与心坎的，是两回事儿。


过于刻意，不如不为。有时的为所欲为才是脱俗。信手拈来，看似不经意，那是厚积溥发的成果，每有神来之笔。 做事也是这样。
文化带给人们的，除了提高,dre beats，还有就是思维的更加庞杂化。其中的抵触与抵触，是最丰盛的果实，咱们没有播种它，却在感触它 的存在。


到了丛森密树之中，设想街头你的对方跟某个人相偕着行走。你会发明本人更加孤独，草木并不解语 的本领,beats by dre。假如来到河边，想到逝去了的亲人，水流似的不可留，而你还在。潺潺声就象泣音，会落泪的。


你送恋人一朵玫瑰，不如送对方一个轻吻。你送恋人一块腕表，不如送对方一句誓言。爱情中的情势主义，表现的 是浪漫十分，往往却经不起时光的考验。只有来自内心的，才是恋情保鲜的不二法门。
仁者爱山，智者爱水。悼念亲人，最好上山,dre beats。如果对爱放不下，最好去看河流。如果把这二者反了过来，往往更加的寂寞和苦楚。


have my ... ...

Lonely night ...

成长的进程嘛


The driver clambered into his seat, clicked his tongue, and we went downhill. The brake squeaked horribly from time to time. At the foot he eased off the noisy mechanism and said, turning half round on his box--
"We shall see some more of them by-and-by."
"More idiots? How many of them are there, then?" I asked.
"There's four of them--children of a farmer near Ploumar here. . . . The parents are dead now," he added, after a while. "The grandmother lives on the farm. In the daytime they knock about on this road, and they come home at dusk along with the cattle. . . . It's a good farm."
We saw the other two: a boy and a girl, as the driver said. They were dressed exactly alike, in shapeless garments with petticoat-like skirts. The imperfect thing that lived within them moved those beings to howl at us from the top of the bank, where they sprawled amongst the tough stalks of furze. Their cropped black heads stuck out from the bright yellow wall of countless small blossoms. The faces were purple with the strain of yelling; the voices sounded blank and cracked like a mechanical imitation of old people's voices; and suddenly ceased when we turned into a lane.
I saw them many times in my wandering about the country. They lived on that road, drifting along its length here and there, according to the inexplicable impulses of their monstrous darkness. They were an offence to the sunshine, a reproach to empty heaven, a blight on the concentrated and purposeful vigour of the wild landscape. In time the story of their parents shaped itself before me out of the listless answers to my questions, out of the indifferent words heard in wayside inns or on the very road those idiots haunted. Some of it was told by an emaciated and sceptical old fellow with a tremendous whip, while we trudged together over the sands by the side of a two-wheeled cart loaded with dripping seaweed. Then at other times other people confirmed and completed the story: till it stood at last before me, a tale formidable and simple, as they always are, those disclosures of obscure trials endured by ignorant hearts.