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一我以为,每个人的心灵,其实都是他自己的书。只是许多人的书页上蒙蔽着灰尘,终生未能打开阅读过它;有的人已经打开书页,但不知怎样去阅读,终了还是迷失了;有的人不小心弄
I think that everyone’s heart is actually his own book. Only many people’s pages were blinded by dust and could not be read for the rest of their lives. Some had already opened the pages, but somehow they did not read it,