一页页翻看从前的日记,就像是观看一场无声的电影。袅袅茶香里,我看到影片的主人公穿行于岁月的山岚与河流间,沿途捡拾故事的碎片,记录诉不尽的喜怒悲欢。前些日子,我在图书馆随手翻阅毛姆的作品集,在《人生的枷锁》中读到这样一句话:在人生的旅途上,非得越过一大片干旱贫瘠、地形险恶的荒野,才能跨入活生生的世界。朴实无华的字句,三言两语,便说尽了生活的真谛。在这个世界上,每个人都是一本厚重而极具质感的书。我们曾在 A page to read the old diary, is like watching a silent movie. Curl tea, I saw the protagonist of the film running through the years between the mountains and rivers, along the way to pick up the fragments of the story, the record v. Endless emotions. A few days ago, I readily read through Maughou’s collection of works in the library and read in my book “The Shackles of Life” that in the journey of life I have to cross a vast barren and precarious wilderness Living world. Simple words, a few words, they have said the true meaning of life. In this world, everyone is a thick, very textured book. We were there