1リットルの涙
"我也想让她开心地活下去，但在隐瞒她的同时，她的时间已渐渐流逝..."
"为什么病魔会选择上我?"
"把时间还给我..."
命运就是如此地被上天掌控着、玩弄着。
有些事情就是无法改变。
可做的，就只有调整自己的心态
尽量利用自己剩余的时间来touch别人
"When I was a boy my grandfather died, and he was a sculptor. He was also a very kind man who had a lot of love to give the world, and he helped clean up the slum in our town; and he made toys for us and he did a million things in his lifetime; he was always busy with his hands. And when he died, I suddenly realized I wasn't crying for him at all, but for all the things he did. I cried because he would never do them again, he would never carve another piece of wood or help us raise doves and pigeons in the backyard or play the violin the way he did, or tell us jokes the way he did. He was part of us and when he died, all the actions stopped dead and there was no one to do them just the way he did. He was individual. He was an important man. I've never gotten over his death. Often I think what wonderful carvings never came to birth because he died. How many jokes are missing from the world, and how many homing pigeons untouched by his hands. He shaped the world. He did things to the world. The world was bankrupted of ten million fine actions the night he passed on. "
Adapted from Ray Bradbury's "Fahrenheit 451"
Life touched by great books, great shows, great friends and family
"我也想让她开心地活下去，但在隐瞒她的同时，她的时间已渐渐流逝..."
"为什么病魔会选择上我?"
"把时间还给我..."
命运就是如此地被上天掌控着、玩弄着。
有些事情就是无法改变。
可做的，就只有调整自己的心态
尽量利用自己剩余的时间来touch别人
"When I was a boy my grandfather died, and he was a sculptor. He was also a very kind man who had a lot of love to give the world, and he helped clean up the slum in our town; and he made toys for us and he did a million things in his lifetime; he was always busy with his hands. And when he died, I suddenly realized I wasn't crying for him at all, but for all the things he did. I cried because he would never do them again, he would never carve another piece of wood or help us raise doves and pigeons in the backyard or play the violin the way he did, or tell us jokes the way he did. He was part of us and when he died, all the actions stopped dead and there was no one to do them just the way he did. He was individual. He was an important man. I've never gotten over his death. Often I think what wonderful carvings never came to birth because he died. How many jokes are missing from the world, and how many homing pigeons untouched by his hands. He shaped the world. He did things to the world. The world was bankrupted of ten million fine actions the night he passed on. "
Adapted from Ray Bradbury's "Fahrenheit 451"
Life touched by great books, great shows, great friends and family