I heard this sentence as if I suddenly understood something, and looked at the slowly coming breath of autumn, as if it was the Yellow time of leaves, and the season of yearning. The endless emotions kept rolling in my mind, disordered my eyes, hurt my feelings, and damaged my feelings, so that I knocked down the words I didn't like on the keyboard. After reading it, I asked myself why I was so sad, but that's what I like A feeling of joy. The more days I can talk to others, the more expensive it is to be independent, the more I will feel. Because I always remember, Anthony said, "don't walk too slowly, the flowers will wither; don't walk too fast, so the flowers haven't opened yet.". Pascal Messier wrote a passage in the Lisbon nightcar: "we can't see ourselves clearly, we can't see ahead, we can't understand the past, we have a good life, all by chance. Life and life are to live. As for love, life and death are to die. You can't force it. You can't follow your own wishes. You can only have opportunities. Life is like an unknown journey. We don't know when the car will arrive, the post station will arrive, some people will get off, some people will get on. Maybe we will remember some smiles, which are more vivid in our memory As for the sleeve, it is also full of that memory. When we walk into similar familiar places, we are still so familiar. We don't wake ourselves up, we don't pawn our memories. We record the years and describe our lives. In our old age, we can count our hair and talk about our youth under the withered vine tree. It is just like a thick book work.