和別人發生意見上的紛歧，甚至造成言語上的衝突， 你因此悶悶不樂，因為你覺得都是別人惡意。 別再耿耿於懷了，回家去擦地板吧。 拎一塊抹布，彎下腰，雙膝著地，把 你麵前這張地板的每個角落來回擦拭幹淨在最深的紅塵固守住自己對生活的承諾，在清淺的歲月來壹場忘我的邂逅。 然後重新省思自己在那場衝突中，所說過的每一句話。 現在，你發現自己其實也有不對的地方了，是不是？ 你漸漸心平氣和了，是不是？ 有時候你必須學習彎腰，因為這個動作可以讓你知道謙卑。 勞動身體的同時，你也擦亮了自己的心緒。 而且，你還擁有了一張光潔的地板呢。這是你的第二個收獲。 看電視 看電視的時候，你總是一個頻道切換另一個頻道。 日常生活中，你也總是一個身分切換另一個身分。 麵對不同的電視頻道，你收看。 麵對不同的角色身分，你扮演。 不同的頻道和身分，都隻存在於當下片刻。 專心去感覺當下片刻就好，而且懂得隨時隨地冷眼旁觀， 態度不妨投入，心靈卻保持清冷。電視節目是虛構的，人生種種也非真非假。 看電視的樂趣在於想轉哪一個頻道，就轉哪一個頻道， 而人生自在的秘訣，則在於每一個身分都可以收放自如。

get those fools back where they belong a police shieldcould hold me upside down and drainmy gutschange your mind. Someone bring my horse. The mare, not the stallion. I’ll want my armor too.” Mance glanced suspiciously at the Wall. Atop the icy parapets, the straw soldiers stood collecting arrows, but there was no sign of any other activity. “Harma, mount up your raiders. Tormund, find your sons and give me a triple line of spears.”  “Aye,” said Tormund, striding off.  The mousy little skinchanger closed his eyes and said, “I see them. They’re coming along the streams and game trails...”  “Who?”  “Men. Men on horses. Men in steel and men in black.”  “Crows.” Mance made the word a curse. He turned on Jon. “Did my old brothers think they’d catch me with my breeches down if they attacked while we were talking?”  “If they planned an attack they never told me about it.” it. Lord Janos lacked the men to attack the wildling camp. Besides, he was on the wrong side of the Wall, and the gate was sealed with rubble. He had a different sort of treachery in mind, this can’t be his work.  “If you’re lying to me again, you won’t be leaving here alive,” Mance warned. His guards brought him his horse and armor. Elsewhere around the camp, Jon saw people running at cross purposes, some men forming up as if to storm the Wall while others slipped into the woods, women driving dog carts east, mammoths wandering west. He reached back over his shoulder and drew Longclaw just as a thin line of rangers emerged from the fringes of the wood three hundred yards away. They wore black mail, black halfhelms, and black cloaks. Half-armored, Mance drew his sword. “You knew nothing of this, did you?” he said to Jon, coldly.

the eyes. Inside the wine was boiling madly. “Get the cup from my bedroll and dip it half full,” he told her. “Be careful. You knock the damn thing over, I will

send you back for more. Take the wine and pour it on my wounds. Think you can do that?” Arya nodded. “Then what are you waiting for?” he growled.  Her knuckles

brushed the steel the first time she filled the cup, burning her so badly she got blisters. Arya had to bite her lip to keep from screaming. The Hound used the stick

for the same purpose, clamping it between his teeth as she poured. She did the gash in his thigh first, then the shallower cut on the back of his neck. Sandor coiled

his right hand into a fist and beat against the ground when she did his leg. When it came to his neck, he bit the stick so hard it broke, and she had to find him a

new one. She could see the terror in his eyes. “Turn your head.” She trickled the wine down over the raw red flesh where his ear had been, and fingers of brown

blood and red wine crept over his jaw. He did scream then a police shieldcould hold me upside down and drainmy gutschange your mind , despite the stick. Then he passed out from the pain.  Arya figured the rest out by herself. She fished the

strips they’d made of the squire’s cloak out of the bottom of the helm and used them to bind the cuts. When she came to his ear, she had to wrap up half his head

to stop the bleeding. By then dusk was settling over the Trident. She let the horses graze, then herself as comfortable as she

could in a niche between two rocks. The fire burned a while and died. Arya watched the moon through the branches overhead.  “Ser Gregor the Mountain,” she said

softly. “Dunsen, Raff the Sweetling, Ser Ilyn, Ser Meryn, Queen Cersei.” It made her feel queer to leave out Polliver and the Tickler. And Joffrey too. She was

glad he was dead, but she wished she could have been there to see him die, or maybe kill him herself. Polliver said that Sansa killed him, and the Imp. Could that be

true? The Imp was a Lannister, and Sansa...

“A duty to House Lannister. You are the heir to Casterly Rock. That is where you should be. Tommen should accompany you, as your ward and squire. The Rock is where he’ll learn to be a Lannister a police shieldcould hold me upside down and drainmy gutschange your mind , and I want him away from his mother. I mean to find a new husband for Cersei. Oberyn Martell perhaps, once I convince Lord Tyrell that the match does not threaten Highgarden. And it is past time you were wed. The Tyrells are now insisting that Margaery be wed to Tommen, but if I were to offer you instead -”  “NO!” Jaime had heard all that he could stand. No, more than he could stand. He was sick of it, sick of lords and lies, sick of his father, his sister,  business. “No. No. No. No. No. How many times must I say no before you’ll hear it? Oberyn Martell? The man’s infamous, and not just for poisoning his sword. He has more bastards than Robert, and beds with boys as well. And if you think for one misbegotten moment that I would wed Joffrey’s widow...”  “Lord Tyrell swears the girl’s still maiden.”  “She can die a maiden as far as I’m concerned. I don’t want her, and I don’t want your Rock!”  “You are my son -”  “I am a knight of the Kingsguard. The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard! And that’s all I mean to be!”  Firelight gleamed golden in the stiff whiskers that framed Lord Tywin’s face.

“A year or a fortnight, what does it matter? He poisoned his own nephew to gain the throne and then did

nothing once he had it.”  “Baelor starved himself to death, fasting,” said Tyrion. “His uncle served him loyally as Hand, as he had served the Young Dragon before

him. Viserys might only have reigned a year, but he ruled for fifteen, while Daeron warred and Baelor prayed.” He made a sour face. “And if he did remove his

nephew, can you blame him? Someone had to’s follies.”  Sansa was shocked. “But Baelor the Blessed was a great king. He walked the

Boneway barefoot to make peace with Dorne, and rescued the Dragonknight from a snakepit. The vipers refused to strike him because he was so pure and holy.”  Prince

Oberyn smiled. “If you were a viper, my lady, would you want to bite a bloodless stick like Baelor the Blessed? I’d sooner save my fangs for someone juicier...” 

“My prince is playing with you, Lady Sansa,” said the woman Ellaria Sand. “The septons and singers like to say that the snakes did not bite Baelor, but the truth

is very different. He was bitten half a hundred times, and should have died from it.”  “If he had, Viserys would have reigned a dozen years,” said Tyrion, “and

the Seven Kingdoms might have been better served. Some believe Baelor was deranged by all that venom.”  “Yes,” said Prince Oberyn, “but I’ve seen no snakes in

this Red Keep of yours. So how do you account for Joffrey?”  “I prefer not to.” Tyrion inclined his head stiffly. “If you will excuse us. Our litter awaits.” The

dwarf helped Sansa up inside and clambered awkwardly after her. “Close the curtains, my lady, if you’d be so good.”  “Must we, my lord?” Sansa did not want to be

shut behind the curtains. “The day is so a police shieldcould hold me upside down and drainmy gutschange your mind lovely.”  “The good people of King’s Landing are like to throw dung at the litter if they see me inside it. Do us both a

kindness, my lady. Close the curtains.”  She did as he bid her. They sat for a time, as the air grew warm and stuffy around them. “I was sorry about your book, my

lord,” she made herself say.  “It was Joffrey’s book. He might have learned a thing or two if he’d read it.” He sounded distracted. “I should have known better.

I should have seen... a good many things.”