Loneliness is a garden, but there is only one tree in it.

Despair has fingers, but it can only catch butterflies.

The sun should wear bright clothes even if it is sad.

Death comes from behind, even if it seems to come from the front:

The front only belongs to life.

Crazy is a child, playing the most beautiful game in the rational garden.

Time:

Floating in joy, settling in sadness.

Forget a harp, and remember to play silent sadness with it.

The world made me black and blue, but the wound grew wings.

The darkness that came at me made me brighter.

Loneliness is also my ladder to climb the light.