记忆里的昨天，充斥着离别的味道，总是昂得寂静黯然，凉凉的微风拂过，带着我的草名惆怅，似落花有情流水无意的飘散在回忆的长廊，干是也就习惯了深沉的模样，习惯了寂静的枯灯。每当夜慕降临，浓浓的寂寞袭上心头，才知道，指缝中溜走了太多的岁月，尘埃中湮没了太多的往事，无奈中留下了太多的叹息。

也正是这样，我常常在意犹未尽的时候，怀揣着一种感性的思维，写下浮生流年里，那韶光的短暂，低吟浅唱回忆的殇。

记得我小的时候，从不在意光阴的流逝，直到当蹉跎的岁月，恍如一梦，什么也没留下，却带走了匆匆时光时，我才明白什么是珍惜，却为时已晚，只能暗叹，造化弄人。

如今，我们都长大了，那会的时光早已经暗淡成苦涩的味道，奔跑在成长的天空下，留住的甜蜜又有几分?徘徊在这样的夜色里，我渐渐觉得，我对年少的光阴早已变成了缅怀，和蜻蜓的翅膀一样透明，在那不高不低的晚风中时现时隐，这不就是一场梦吗，年华的齿轮，在不知不觉间领着我们兜兜转转，转转兜兜，是否还记得，生命里最初的那些模样，来的，去的，多少繁华被一夕覆灭，你说记忆有那么多的动情，忘记该有多痛，花儿的枯萎-如光阴般静静流逝，我并不怕失去经历，怕的是再也抓不住年少的曾经。

　　Such stories set us thinking, wondering what we should do under similar circumstances. What events, what experiences, what associations should we crowd into those last hours as mortal beings, what regrets?

　　Sometimes I have thought it would be an excellent rule to live each day as if we should die tomorrow. Such an attitude would emphasize sharply the values of life. We should live each day with gentleness, vigor and a keenness of appreciation which are often lost when time stretches before us in the constant panorama of more days and months and years to come. There are those, of course, who would adopt the Epicurean motto of “Eat, drink, and be merry”. But most people would be chastened by the certainty of impending death.

　　In stories the doomed hero is usually saved at the last minute by some stroke of fortune, but almost always his sense of values is changed. He becomes more appreciative of the meaning of life and its permanent spiritual values. It has often been noted that those who live, or have lived, in the shadow of death bring a mellow sweetness to everything they do.

　　Most of us, however, take life for granted. We know that one day we must die, but usually we picture that day as far in the future. When we are in buoyant health, death is all but unimaginable. We seldom think of it. The days stretch out in an endless vista. So we go about our petty tasks, hardly aware of our listless attitude toward life.

　　The same lethargy, I am afraid, characterizes the use of all our faculties and senses. Only the deaf appreciate hearing, only the blind realize the manifold blessings that lie in sight. Particularly does this observation apply to those who have lost sight and hearing in adult life. But those who have never suffered impairment of sight or hearing seldom make the fullest use of these blessed faculties. Their eyes and ears take in all sights and sounds hazily, without concentration and with little appreciation. It is the same old story of not being grateful for what we have until we lose it, of not being conscious of health until we are ill.

　　I have often thought it would be a blessing if each human being were stricken blind and deaf for a few days at some time during his early adult life. Darkness would make him more appreciative of sight; silence would teach him the joys of sound.