白天忙忙碌碌,嘈嘈杂杂,晚上就是属于自己的读书时光。夜渐渐沉了下来,泡一杯酽酽的茶,捧起一本书,思绪就静静地流。乏了,站起来伸个懒腰,用目光穿透黑夜,闻几声犬吠,看点点繁星,然后继续自己的漫长心旅。记不得从何时起,我就用这种方式弥漫一个又一个深夜,享受着自己的夜读生活。与书我自认是有缘的。这种缘表现在,我对以前许多东西的记忆斑驳迷离,而对书的记忆十分清晰,读过的书,买过的书,遗失的 Busy during the day, noisy and complicated at night is their own study time. Night gradually sank, soaked in a cup of tea, won a book, thoughts flow quietly. Stunned, stood up and stretched out, penetrating the night with his eyes, smell barking a few times, watching a little star, and then continue his long journey of mind. I can not remember since when I use this way one after another filled with late-night enjoy their night-reading life. I think it is related to the book. This is a manifestation of the mottling memory of many of my previous memories and the clarity of the book, the books I read, the books I bought, the lost