One must have memories of many nights of love, none of which was like the others, of the screams of women in labor, and of light, white, sleeping women in childbed, closing again.

• 正如元稹的那首诗： 曾经沧海难为水，除却巫山不是云。当这个人离开了你的生命，不管，是不是他故意的。