Time is the antidote, and the wounds of the sun and moon will scab over.
Time is poison, and it will worry you for a long time.
Time is a great thief, even if you don't imitate the flying dragon, you can steal the passing water of hundreds of rivers with feasting and feasting.
Time is a magician. Even if you don't say "Yao Ling Yao Ling Li", you will become the wrinkles and white hair of your parents.
Time is like an eiderdown quilt, with twelve layers upon twelve layers. A mortal is not a princess, so how can she have ice-cold muscles and jade bones, and her skin will gradually become thicker and thicker. There was a time when the little peas were tossing and turning in my heart, but they could no longer disturb you and me from our sweet dreams.
Time is like a river flowing, and the waves and dreams are gone. But the moon in my heart remains silent even after thousands of sails have passed. Every memory I pick up is full of light and gold, and the people who answer each other's fishing songs are no longer insignificant.
There are a thousand metaphors for a thousand people about the time that flies by in a twist car. If it were my turn to write and fill in the lines to be answered in this semi-propositional essay, then time would be just a shell, and everything from hate, regret, reluctance, embarrassment, love, unforgettableness, cherishment, and attachment would hatch into... My appearance.