Since ancient times, there have been those who work diligently and humbly, those who struggle with all their might, those who plead for the people, and those who sacrifice themselves for the law.
Although I had imagined various idealized worlds for a safe but mediocre existence, none were ever realized. However, I have found one for them, which you likely already know: the First Prison in Beijing. Located in the open ground outside Xuanwu Gate, it is safe from neighboring fires; with two meals a day, there is no worry about hunger or cold; a regular schedule for rest and activity prevents harm to one's health; the structure is sturdy and will not collapse; the guards manage everything, so no further offenses occur; and robbers will certainly not come to steal. Living there is incredibly safe, truly embodying the saying, 'A son worth a thousand gold should not sit by a ledge.' Yet, there is one thing lacking: freedom.
Facts are unfeeling things; they can shatter empty words to pieces.
If one only reads books, one becomes nothing more than a bookshelf.
We must thank the first person to eat a crab, but we must also thank the first crab that got eaten.
Tragedy destroys what is valuable in life and shows it to us; comedy tears apart what is worthless and reveals it to us.