【随心】我是小飞

There is a legend about a bird which sings just once in his life, more sweetly than any other creature on the face of the earth. From the moment it leaves the nest it search for a thorn tree, and does not rest until it has found one. Then, singing among the savage branches, it impales itself upon the largest , sharpest spine. And, dying, it rises above its own agony to out carol the lark and the nightingale. One superlative song, existence the price. But the whole world stills to listen, and God in His Heaven smiles. For the best is only bought at the lost of great pain....Or so says the legend. The bird with the thorn in its breast, it follows an immutable law; it is driven by it knows not what to impale itself, and die singing. At the very instant the thorn enters there is no awareness in it of the dying to come; it simply sings and sings until there is not the life left to utter another note. But we, when we put the thorns in our breasts, we know. We understand. And still we do it. Still we do it. 

祝一切顺利

小北哥，一路顺风， 一定不会有事哒！别说得这么吓人好不！

刷帖能赚豆豆吗 哈哈 现在不能咯 不要刷帖了