想起狄更斯的那首诗:
The pure, the bright, the beautiful,
That stirred our hearts in youth,
The impulses to wordless prayer,
The dreams of love and truth;
The longing after something's lost,
The spirit's yearning cry,
The striving after better hopes
These things can never die.
[em13]有梦的当年总是那么美好 即使那是属于别人的
[em11]楼主害我又出血~
