We dwell but on the roses by the wayside, and the strong briers that stung us are, to our distant eyes, but gentle tendrils waving in the wind.
我们只流连于路旁的玫瑰;那些曾刺痛我们的坚硬荆棘,远远看去,不过是随风轻摇的柔嫩卷须。
— Jerome K. Jerome · The Idle Thoughts of an Idle Fellow · On Memory —