欧宝娱乐

“You cannot!' Tatiana said sharply. 'If you order a gun there is only a single shot, and once delivered the doors are locked and will not open until it has been fired.”
― R.D. Ronald, The Zombie Room

“Wouldn't--" Kel began to say, but the words stuck in her mouth. She swallowed and tried again. "Wouldn't it be well, not nice to flirt with somebody you don't want to fall in love with?”
― Tamora Pierce, Page

“賯丕賱鬲 丕賱丌賳爻丞 賲丕乇亘賱 :" 廿賳 丕賱賲丨丕丿孬丕鬲 丿丕卅賲丕賸 賲丕 鬲賰賵賳 禺胤賷乇丞 貙 廿匕丕 賰丕賳 毓賳丿賰 卮賷亍 鬲禺賮賷賴 ”
― 兀噩丕孬丕 賰乇賷爻鬲賷

“The truth is you already know what it's like. You already know the difference between the size and speed of everything that flashes through you and the tiny inadequate bit of it all you can ever let anyone know. As though inside you is this enormous room full of what seems like everything in the whole universe at one time or another and yet the only parts that get out have to somehow squeeze out through one of those tiny keyholes you see under the knob in older doors. As if we are all trying to see each other through these tiny keyholes.

But it does have a knob, the door can open. But not in the way you think...The truth is you've already heard this. That this is what it's like. That it's what makes room for the universes inside you, all the endless inbent fractals of connection and symphonies of different voices, the infinities you can never show another soul. And you think it makes you a fraud, the tiny fraction anyone else ever sees? Of course you're a fraud, of course what people see is never you. And of course you know this, and of course you try to manage what part they see if you know it's only a part. Who wouldn't? It's called free will, Sherlock. But at the same time it's why it feels so good to break down and cry in front of others, or to laugh, or speak in tongues, or chant in Bengali--it's not English anymore, it's not getting squeezed through any hole.

So cry all you want, I won't tell anybody.”
― David Foster Wallace, Oblivion