I thought that from a biological point of view, life reads almost like a poem. It has its own rhythm and rhythm, and its inner cycle of growth and decay. It begins with an innocent childhood, followed by a crude youth, a crude attempt to adjust to a mature society, with youthful enthusiasm and foolishness, ideals and ambitions; then it reaches a vigorous adulthood , profit from experience, and more experience from society and human nature; in middle age, the tension is slightly lessened, and ...