A spinning wheel is meant to turn around, just like fate is bound to happen. In many cases, we don't have a choice.

Raindrops are like transient thoughts. They fall into the ocean and merge into a greater vastness.

The future is as eternal and true as this island. It was there long before anyone was there, and stays the same after everybody is gone.

... There's no question that solitude is a blessing.

... Well, the chair is in the middle of the room. Please take a seat.

I start reading at this time of day and finish it as dusk falls. This has become a soothing habit of mine in this long, weary journey to the final end.

... One should never parcel off the loaf, for it's a violation of the scripture. But we are not on the island. So, please enjoy the freedom.

The alternation of day and night maintains the balance of the world. However, when electric light prolongs the day and eats into the night, the balance is gone, followed by the fairness.

It is hard to tell the time here in the suitcase, but the ebb and flow of my soul remind me that it is time for bed ... Tiredness caught up with me.

Every night, the seagulls fly into my bedroom from the edge of the island. They follow the glint of the crown and snatch it away. The next morning, I walk to the cliff and take it back from their nest. Day after day, again and again.

Silence is a virtue.

The uncovered area on my chest happens to be in the shape of an isosceles triangle, as 37 proved it.

Hobby, the source of one's pleasure, varies from person to person. One of my friends has a love for numbers, one is drunk in the beauty and power of words, and one is the defender of rules ... I also find myself immersed in joy when I'm alone in the room after a day's work.

I appreciate your understanding on the importance of personal space. It is a valuable virtue.

If you don't mind, please cancel the meetings and work before 3 p.m. tomorrow for me ... Yes, I wish to be left alone, just for a brief peace of mind.

The wise ones on this island used to strike the iron ingots.After years of careful arrangements and calculations, the clanging sound became music.

The seagulls on the island are clever, cunning, and experienced burglars. They seem to have a preference for stealing those thin, golden, and rectangular objects ...

At last, a perfect tragedy.

Are you seeking my service?

My duty lies with you.

The moment of silence.

The moment of utterance.

Time for ears to listen.

Time for tongues to speak of truth.

Benefit from reading.

Learn from silence.

We walk in long nights.

Until the torch is lit.

The scale of your soul has tilted. The balance needs to be restored.

Emm.

Emm ...

Victory secured. I should excuse myself.

Is there another level of perfection upon perfection?

Turning against the fire in the cave, we see the true lights.