Declining Liu Baimen Bay, the tide is returning to the city, big long trunks are connected to small long trunks, the wine flags and singing boards are all scattered, only the fishing rods are left.
The autumn grass is cold in the six mornings, the flowers are raining in the empty altar, and there is no one to lean on the railing. The swallows come and go in the setting sun, so the country is like this.
----"The Sound of Selling Flowers". Zhu Yizun
The so-called philosopher is one who gives up his things and becomes his mind.
----"Looking for a crossing, looking for a crossing, where to cross?" . Liang Heng