When I am walking in the open country on the shadow of moon light in autumn, I think of a famous poet, the old Tolstoy who had made inquiries – Do all things mature have to slow down heads? That is right, every step we have taken will become memory no matter they are the casual, temporary meetings or a sad separation. But please trust me no matter it is a passive expectation or a soulful pursuit. Every song we are singing will not disappear in a moment only if we are alive and the clouds, the sky and the beauty of our lives are always is with us!

Every pond has the tinges of sea while sand has the shadow of dissert inside. As a result, poets love to say that a white tip clover could change to be a great expansion of plain with my imagination.

The narrowly selfish soul could be the hell on its own, while the broadly optimistic soul could turns to be the paradise of others. The hell and the paradise just have one layer of separation. And all the fired source of envy comes from the way of burning itself. An old writer tells us, “How long have your foot steps taken in the timing river? But we should not regret if we have taken the firmly steps, as everyone’s steps may be ups and downs.”