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她站在候机厅，左手拿着花，右手举着一个牌子， 写着Leo，焦急的张望。 我走到她面前，说，你好我就是leo， 谢谢你来接我。 她的眼睛纯真好奇，看了我一眼， 居然马上充满了羞涩和喜悦。她喜欢我了。 这是我第二次来北京出差， 这里的女孩子品种繁多，成色俱佳。 对于我来说，是调情暧昧的美丽家园。比如这个可爱的接机...... (9回应)
你人生是用来干什么的？ 这个问题我是没有答案的， 至少没有什么恒久不变，包罗万象的解释。 但是此时此刻， 我希望未来处于悲伤，绝望，疲惫，或迷惘的我看这篇文章， 起码有一点点心里安慰， 那就是每一刻， 我都做出了我能做出的最佳选择， 而你人生能做的只是这些， 这些最佳选择后面有一个基本的人生观， 这个人生观有...... (16回应)
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- 2011年10月26日 2:50 【案件回顾】十岁少女杀手终长成
- 2011年10月25日 13:49 最少痛苦的生活方式
- 2011年10月15日 23:47 忍到最后是春天
- 2011年10月13日 0:3 让你意想不到的各种合影
- 2011年10月11日 22:29 昨天在本市一个乐队演出结束以后，捡到了该乐队鼓手的谱子，我凌乱了。
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blog地址:http://www.douban.com/group/topic/8462176/
己欲立而立人， 己欲达而达人， 己所不欲，勿施于人。
我们要以勇气来改变可以改变的事情， 用胸怀来接受那些不能改变的事情， 用智慧来分辨这两者的不同。
"Truth is a pathless land." Man cannot come to it through any organization, through any creed, through any dogma, priest or ritual, not through any philosophic knowledge or psychological technique. He has to find it through the mirror of relationship, through the understanding of the contents of his own mind, through observation and not through intellectual analysis or introspective dissection. Man has built in himself images as a fence of security -- religious, political, personal.
Freedom is pure observation without direction, without fear of punishment and reward. Freedom is without motive; freedom is not at the end of the evolution of man but lies in the first step of his existence. In observation one begins to discover the lack of freedom. Freedom is found in the choiceless awareness of our daily existence and activity. -------克里希那穆提
一生至少该有一次，为了某个人而忘了自己，不求有结果，不求同行，不求曾经拥有，甚至不求你爱我。 只求在我最美的年华里，遇到你。--- the notebook
A new strength, born of suffering, is pulsating in the veins and a new sympathy and understanding is being born of past suffering – a greater desire to see others suffer less, and, if they must suffer, to see that they bear it nobly and come out of it without too many scars. I have wept, but I do not want others to weep; but if they do, I know what it means-----krishnamurti
I looked and looked at her, and I knew, as clearly as I know that I will die, that I loved her more than anything I had ever seen or imagined on earth. She was only the dead-leaf echo of the nymphet from long ago - but I loved her, this Lolita, pale and polluted and big with another man's child. She could fade and wither - I didn't care. I would still go mad with tenderness at the mere sight of her face.
---------------- Vladimir Nabokov
己欲立而立人， 己欲达而达人， 己所不欲，勿施于人。
我们要以勇气来改变可以改变的事情， 用胸怀来接受那些不能改变的事情， 用智慧来分辨这两者的不同。
"Truth is a pathless land." Man cannot come to it through any organization, through any creed, through any dogma, priest or ritual, not through any philosophic knowledge or psychological technique. He has to find it through the mirror of relationship, through the understanding of the contents of his own mind, through observation and not through intellectual analysis or introspective dissection. Man has built in himself images as a fence of security -- religious, political, personal.
Freedom is pure observation without direction, without fear of punishment and reward. Freedom is without motive; freedom is not at the end of the evolution of man but lies in the first step of his existence. In observation one begins to discover the lack of freedom. Freedom is found in the choiceless awareness of our daily existence and activity. -------克里希那穆提
一生至少该有一次，为了某个人而忘了自己，不求有结果，不求同行，不求曾经拥有，甚至不求你爱我。 只求在我最美的年华里，遇到你。--- the notebook
A new strength, born of suffering, is pulsating in the veins and a new sympathy and understanding is being born of past suffering – a greater desire to see others suffer less, and, if they must suffer, to see that they bear it nobly and come out of it without too many scars. I have wept, but I do not want others to weep; but if they do, I know what it means-----krishnamurti
I looked and looked at her, and I knew, as clearly as I know that I will die, that I loved her more than anything I had ever seen or imagined on earth. She was only the dead-leaf echo of the nymphet from long ago - but I loved her, this Lolita, pale and polluted and big with another man's child. She could fade and wither - I didn't care. I would still go mad with tenderness at the mere sight of her face.
---------------- Vladimir Nabokov
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