If emotion is a tragedy, it must be dead. The origin of.

This sentence was said by Jane. In the seventh year of Viola, it was quoted as Farewell to Dunkirk. Goodbye. It's about the past and that foreign movie called Atonement. I suddenly thought of Amy. Although it has nothing to do with war and love. But when I saw the title of the article, I thought of him inexplicably. Goodbye, Dunkirk. Goodbye. Inexplicable sadness. I won't talk about it. Violet years also didn't say. Yesterday, I had an English class from 1 to 8 pm. Finally, I put down my pen with glassy eyes. I got a rough idea of the good efficiency before. Shirt classmates keep harassing. Forced to say something hurtful. I know I promised myself I wouldn't hurt anyone. I'm sorry. okay. I'm sorry if I'm really wrong this time. But Holy Mary, don't let my shirt classmates disturb my study again! Pick up the phone and send Amy a message. Suddenly when I was very tired, I thought of the same person again. He didn't answer. I want to know what I am doing. But I knew it. Afraid that he didn't know what to reply, he simply added the word "no reply". But I waited a long time for self-love. Put the phone down. Listen to the class. Amy is studying. I am also studying. How good the state is. Ha ha. I thought about it this morning. A few months later. Maybe already. Maybe it will. Maybe not. Maybe it's over, but ... it's also a wonderful memory. Amy. Let's go Find you, love you, marry you, and live without shame. This seems to be what Jane said. If deep affection is a tragedy, it must be read with death. -seven viola years, so seven viola years is a question of citing water. Drunk Moon Lake in Jiantai University records the story of a woman who was in trouble and jumped into the water. I think, deep affection is a tragedy, and every sentence should be read with death. And this kind of death is the purest. I am a weak person. I have seen the tragedy and acted it, but I absconded in the last scene. People are alive and enthusiastic. So I wrote down the problem of water. Remember that woman and mourn for yourself. The cuckoo of that year has become the spring mud of the next year. Why, why is your lake still green today? The personnel of that year have been scattered into the mortal dust. Why, why is your spring girl still young every year? Is the willow smoke too thick to find the door of spring? Is the railing too vertical and horizontal for you to dive out of the crying swamp? Is there no bank, no bridge, and no grass bank in the lake? There are too many legends, too rough: saying that you are just a lonely woman who used to be a flower city, saying that you are addicted to love because of carelessness, and saying that your slip was just an accident. It is said that someone saw you wandering on the edge of land and water in the middle of the night, shyly telling strangers about your broken heart, saying that you came all the way for that person's appointment, but how did you trudge all the way? How can I easily embed the day and night order? You no longer belong to time and space, so you are trapped in the middle of the lake, and you dare not talk to the world and the world you love. So you became a frozen butterfly specimen, and marked in the picture book that you committed suicide because of failed courtship, and it smelled fragrant after dinner.