I wish I could remember the first day,
First hour, first moment of your meeting me;
If bright or dim the season, it might be
Summer or winter for aught I can say.
So unrecorded did it slip away,
I wish I could remember the first day,
First hour, first moment of your meeting me;
If bright or dim the season, it might be
Summer or winter for aught I can say.
So unrecorded did it slip away,
The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
"我喜歡上拳擊的理由之一,是那其中有著深度。我想是那深度捉住了我。和這比起來,打人或被打真的都不算一回事了。那只不過是結果而已。有勝,也有敗。不過只要了解那深度,人就算輸了,也不會受傷。人不可能在各方面得勝。人總有一天會被打敗。重要的是了解那深度。拳擊這東西--至少對我來說--就是這種行為。"
--【沉默】,萊辛頓的幽靈 by 村上春樹
我不想 也不會被你們影響了