昨晚做完paper, 已是三點了。心裡覺得很滿足, 翻了詩集便睡了。
Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself.
But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
Love, The Prophet, Kahlil Gibran
