Thinking -- let's give it a more grand name -- like a fish line thrown into this trickling stream, shaking between the reflection and the water and grass minute by minute, drifting with the tide, and then rising and falling, until -- you know, just pulling -- suddenly, the other end of the line sinks, and a group of thoughts is hooked. Next, it is necessary to carefully take in the thread and carefully arrange it. Alas, I put it on the grass. My idea seems to be nothing but a small fish. A shrewd fisherman will throw it back into the river so that it can grow bigger. Until one day, people can eat it in a pot. Now, I won't bother you with this thought. However, if you pay attention, you can still perceive its existence from my next words. But no matter how small it is, it is still as mysterious as its kind: once it is put back in mind, it becomes so exciting and meaningful; Sometimes it plunges into the bottom of the water suddenly, sometimes it rushes from east to west, stirring up bursts of thought turbulence, making people uneasy to sit. Therefore, I walked into a lawn without knowing it. In an instant, the figure of a man stood in front of me and blocked my way. At first, I didn't understand that this guy was wearing a tuxedo for the day and a white shirt for the evening dress. He looked strange, but he was telling me what to do. His face was full of panic and ange

r.

Fortunately, intuition rather than reason reminded me that he is a supervisor and I am a woman. Here is the lawn, and the road is over there. Only researchers and scholars can walk here, and the gravel path is left for me. These thoughts flashed in my mind. When I got back to the path, the supervisor put his hand down and his face was calm again. Grassland is much easier to walk than gravel path, but it doesn't matter to me. No matter which college the researchers or scholars come from, the only thing I can accuse them of is to protect their turf, which has been trampled under my feet for 300 years. They scared my little fish into hiding. What was that idea that made me break into the forbidden area so boldly? Now I can't remember it. The peace of mind is like clouds falling from the sky. If the peace of mind will fall somewhere, it must fall into the courtyard and square square over Niuqiao in the beautiful morning of October. Wandering in the old corridors of several colleges, the unhappiness in front of me seems to disappear.

It seems that there is a magic glass window hidden in the body, and no sound can be heard. The mind can also get rid of the tangle of facts (unless you break into the grass again), and can calm down and fall into any kind of meditation that is appropriate at this moment. Inadvertently, the experience of revisiting Oxbridge on holidays mentioned in an old article reminds me of Charles Lamb [6] - Thackeray put a letter from Lamb on his forehead and called it St. Charles - Thackeray put a letter from Lamb on his forehead and called it St. Charles. Indeed, among the dead ancestors (I will tell you where I want to go), Lamb is the most amiable one, and will make people want to say to him, "Well, tell me how you write essays?" In my opinion, his essays are better than those of Max Bilbohm [7]. Although every piece of Bilbohm's essays is perfect, his wild imagination and the genius light in his writing add flaws and defects to them, but they also flash poetic everywhere. Lamb came to Niuqiao about a hundred years ago. Of course, he wrote an essay - I can't remember the name - about the manuscript of a poem that he saw here. The poem was probably Lycidas [8], and Lamb wrote that he was surprised when he thought that every word in Lycidas might not be like this. Milton changed the poem. In Lamb's view, such a thing would be a blasphemy even to think about it. It is fun for me to speculate about which word might have been changed by Milton, and for what reason, so I also recall this poem in my mind. Then I thought that the manuscript that Lamb had read was just a few steps away, so I could follow Lamb's footsteps, walk across the square square, and go to the famous library to see the treasure there.

Thinking -- let's give it a more grand name -- like a fish line thrown into this trickling stream, shaking between the reflection and the water and grass minute by minute, drifting with the tide, and then rising and falling, until -- you know, just pulling -- suddenly, the other end of the line sinks, and a group of thoughts is hooked. Next, it is necessary to carefully take in the thread and carefully arrange it. Alas, I put it on the grass. My idea seems to be nothing but a small fish. A shrewd fisherman will throw it back into the river so that it can grow bigger. Until one day, people can eat it in a pot. Now, I won't bother you with this thought. However, if you pay attention, you can still perceive its existence from my next words. But no matter how small it is, it is still as mysterious as its kind: once it is put back in mind, it becomes so exciting and meaningful; Sometimes it plunges into the bottom of the water suddenly, sometimes it rushes from east to west, stirring up bursts of thought turbulence, making people uneasy to sit. Therefore, I walked into a lawn without knowing it. In an instant, the figure of a man stood in front of me and blocked my way. At first, I didn't understand that this guy was wearing a tuxedo for the day and a white shirt for the evening dress. He looked strange, but he was telling me what to do. His face was full of panic and ange

r.

Fortunately, intuition rather than reason reminded me that he is a supervisor and I am a woman. Here is the lawn, and the road is over there. Only researchers and scholars can walk here, and the gravel path is left for me. These thoughts flashed in my mind. When I got back to the path, the supervisor put his hand down and his face was calm again. Grassland is much easier to walk than gravel path, but it doesn't matter to me. No matter which college the researchers or scholars come from, the only thing I can accuse them of is to protect their turf, which has been trampled under my feet for 300 years. They scared my little fish into hiding. What was that idea that made me break into the forbidden area so boldly? Now I can't remember it. The peace of mind is like clouds falling from the sky. If the peace of mind will fall somewhere, it must fall into the courtyard and square square over Niuqiao in the beautiful morning of October. Wandering in the old corridors of several colleges, the unhappiness in front of me seems to disappear.

It seems that there is a magic glass window hidden in the body, and no sound can be heard. The mind can also get rid of the tangle of facts (unless you break into the grass again), and can calm down and fall into any kind of meditation that is appropriate at this moment. Inadvertently, the experience of revisiting Oxbridge on holidays mentioned in an old article reminds me of Charles Lamb [6] - Thackeray put a letter from Lamb on his forehead and called it St. Charles - Thackeray put a letter from Lamb on his forehead and called it St. Charles. Indeed, among the dead ancestors (I will tell you where I want to go), Lamb is the most amiable one, and will make people want to say to him, "Well, tell me how you write essays?" In my opinion, his essays are better than those of Max Bilbohm [7]. Although every piece of Bilbohm's essays is perfect, his wild imagination and the genius light in his writing add flaws and defects to them, but they also flash poetic everywhere. Lamb came to Niuqiao about a hundred years ago. Of course, he wrote an essay - I can't remember the name - about the manuscript of a poem that he saw here. The poem was probably Lycidas [8], and Lamb wrote that he was surprised when he thought that every word in Lycidas might not be like this. Milton changed the poem. In Lamb's view, such a thing would be a blasphemy even to think about it. It is fun for me to speculate about which word might have been changed by Milton, and for what reason, so I also recall this poem in my mind. Then I thought that the manuscript that Lamb had read was just a few steps away, so I could follow Lamb's footsteps, walk across the square square, and go to the famous library to see the treasure there.