Sometimes when I listen to other people's love stories, I'm so moved. I'm so moved. These stories are far better than any arguments, theories or teachings about love. They also make me feel that if you don't believe in anything, you must believe in love. It doesn't matter if it's one or two, it doesn't matter. It's scarred, what the hell does it matter, love has to be acted upon, talk about love in a lavish way, it doesn't matter, tell the flowers, tell the diamonds, tell the truth, tell the immortals, tell the encyclopedia, tell the whole world - what's the use? In the maze of love, who is not the lost lamb? Who has made it clear for thousands of years, and how many masters and immortals have really made it clear?
What is love? I only know that facts speak louder than all words, that you have to throw off your limbs, that you have to run all the way, that you can leave behind the hesitation, that can abandon language, maybe that is love - it is the original power of two strangers in this increasingly prosperous and lonely world, using sincerity that has not yet rusted, to saw off the branches and shadows that cross the hearts of each other. .