Since there are roses, we don't want roses.

Get rid of sleep,

A person's life is only over ten thousand days. The difference between people is that you really lived for more than 10,000 days, or you only lived for one day and repeated it more than 10,000 times. -Femando Pessoa.

My soul is crushed by my usual bad temper. I feel tired, not for work or leisure, but for myself. -Femando Pessoa.

What I yearn for is never to see these faces again, and never to live this endless life again. What I want to do is to take off my habitual disguise and become another me, so as to get an end. I want to sleep. This kind of sleep is the expectation of life, not the rest of life. -Femando Pessoa.

I wish I could leave, escape from what I know and what I have. I want to go anywhere, whether it is a village or a wasteland, as long as it is not here. What I yearn for is never to see these people again, and never to live this endless life again. What I want to do is to take off the disguise I am used to and become another me, so as to get a relief. Unfortunately, I have never had the opposite effect on these things. -Femando Pessoa.

I soon got to know other people. It won't be long before I make others like me. However, I have never been able to win their hearts, nor have I experienced their heartfelt love. In my opinion, being loved is almost impossible. -Femando Pessoa.

We have never been completely calm. On the contrary, we are repeatedly troubled by the explanation of what peace is and our desire for peace. -Femando Pessoa.

I love you as much as the sunset and moonlight: I want to keep those moments, but all I want to have is the feeling of owning them. -Femando Pessoa.

I began to understand myself. I don't exist. I am the gap between what I want to be and what others have made me. Or half a crack, because there is life ... this is me. No ... turn off the lights, close the door,

Turn off the slippers in the corridor. Leave me alone in the house and let me enjoy the peace. This is a pseudo-universe. "I began to understand myself."

Spring has come and the moon is high in the sky. I think of you and my heart is intact. A breeze blew towards me through the hazy Yuan Ye. I think of you and whisper your name. I am not me anymore: I am happy. -Femando Pessoa.

When spring comes back, maybe she will never find me in this world again. At the moment, I would like to imagine spring as a person. I think she will cry for me when she finds out that she has lost her only friend. -Femando Pessoa.

The moisture from the sea brought by the monsoon makes the grass more delicate, and the fog spread in the distant mountains makes the stream flow faster, faster than this.

This is the heartbeat of a buffalo to a bird. The rainy season seems to be coming on a stormy afternoon. I like her hovering over my head and saying, "Buffalo, Buffalo, go, go, the river will rise and night will come." A day is always too short, perhaps bridges and villages will never know that buffaloes and birds once fell in love in a river field. -Femando Pessoa.

The setting sun is like a big dirty flame, moving slowly on the left side of the cloud. On an unusually quiet night, there was a vague whistle in the distance. The train must have left there. At this moment, I feel a vague yearning, an ambiguous and gentle desire, which appears and disappears. Sometimes, on the surface of a stream, many bubbles will form, and then become bigger. It is meaningless to rupture, except that the bubbles become bigger and rupture. -Feynman Pessoa "The sunset slows down on the left side of the cloud"

I began to be interested in this smell, because I felt love for me. I have never noticed that flowers smell. Now I smell the flowers and seem to see something new. I know they always smell, just as I know I exist. They are things known to the outside world. But now I know flowers with my breath from the bottom of my heart. Now, I think the flowers are delicious. Nowadays, I sometimes wake up, smell the flowers and then go to see the flowers. -Feynman Pessoa "Because I feel love"

I don't care about the rhythm. Two trees are never the same, one is next to the other. I think and write, just like flowers have colors, but the way to express myself is not perfect, because I lack God-given simplicity to make me appear. I was very moved when I saw it. It's like water flowing down a slope. The poems I write are so natural, just like the wind blowing ...-I don't care about rhythm by Feynman Pessoa.