在加拿大
在论坛看到几次关于这部电视电影的帖子。不知何故，我错过了这部电视剧的年代。关于电影，也一直没有找来看。但是前段时间在好朋友的空间里看了她的影评，虽然我至今依然没看过这部电影，但读了影评却很有感觉，也很感动。所以我想把它转贴过来，也许对一些对电影没看明白的人来说，会容易理解些。爱情的结局 下午去看了电影《将爱情进行到底》，思绪万千。年少时候，希望爱情永恒，相信爱情永恒，以为爱情永恒。十二年前，在电视剧里，杨峥和文慧的爱情让人心碎心醉心痛，让人以为只要有过一次这样的爱情，便是永久。十二年后，当昔日的恋人再度重逢，是否从此明白了：永远到底有多远？是否明白了：爱情有多少种结局？第一种结局：有钱不等于有幸福 杨峥事业有成，娶了文慧，文慧很幸福地做了全职太太。结婚七年，他们生活富足，但是沟通甚少，直到因为一次偶然的机会，杨峥离家出走，住进了自家对面的神秘树宾馆。在昏睡了几十个小时后，杨峥发现在接到的24个电话和81条短信中，竟然没有一个是文慧的！难道她不再关心我了吗？在巨大的心理落差中，杨峥用一只高倍望远镜开始观察文慧的生活：落寞的忧愁，孤独的红酒，澡盆里的一声叹息和一行清泪......原来在文慧的生活里，杨峥早已是一堆空气。杨峥意识到，他的文慧早已有了自己的生活圈子、自己的追求、自己的朋友。杨峥不知道，自己家对面的神秘树宾馆的老总便是文慧。也许，所有的成功人士终日都在忙碌着，忙碌到完全没有时间关注自己身边最亲近的人。直到有一天，回望来时路，才突然发现，那个自己熟悉的人原来并不是一张贴在墙上的照片，永远一成不变。曾经熟悉的笑容，早已遗落在岁月中，曾经熟悉的感觉，早已沧海桑田。第二种结局：贫贱夫妻百事哀 十二年后，杨峥是一个即将离婚的修车工，文慧是一个离了婚带着双胞胎儿子的手机推销员。同学聚会，已经没有了恰同学少年的惬意，只剩岁月催人老的沧桑。在同学们略微离谱的起哄中，文慧和杨峥这对昔日的恋人被推到了一起。身体的触碰加速了曾经爱情的再次萌动。一切都在黑色幽默的气氛中顺理成章地进行着，然而，天不遂人愿，在文慧简朴的家中，两个儿子似懂非懂地将杨叔叔赶出门外；在文慧破旧的面包车里，情到深处却因违章停车被警车拖走，两人只好跳车逃走；在一家低级旅馆里，刚要亲热，杨峥妻子便来电，抱怨杨峥为什么不让自己听海的涛声，抱怨杨峥为什么不能像对待初恋情人一样对待自己，无奈的杨峥对着浴室哗哗的水声向电话那端的人大吼：“你听，这就是海的声音”！这句十二年前迷倒无数人的台词，已经包含了太多的无奈和痛苦。两位昔日恋人正欲再次亲热时，警察急促的敲门声，惊醒了世间所有的鸳梦。从派出所出来，两人遇到文慧的前夫来向杨峥要钱，文慧忍无可忍，跟前夫厮打在一起，那一声撕心裂肺的“五年来我都是这么过的”，让杨峥目瞪口呆。翌日，杨峥登上了回京的飞机，文慧谎称杨峥是自己从精神病院跑出来的老公，空警留住了杨峥，杨峥对文慧吼道：别闹了，不然以前的美好回忆也都没了！文慧怔怔地看着昔日的恋人，怯怯地说：我只是不想留给你昨晚那样的印象。然后，如同十二年前在校园的楼道里一样，文慧在杨峥的面颊留下一吻，黯然离去。只是，十二年后的这一吻，几多沉重，几多感伤！第三种结局：此情可待成追忆，只是当时已惘然 文慧远嫁法国，过着安逸富足的田园生活，却意外地发现老公有了第三者，一个80后的现代女孩。酒醉中，文慧给在中国的杨峥打了电话，两天后，杨峥来到法国。面对昔日的恋人，杨峥默默地支持她，陪伴她，甚至，想带她走。这时，第三者走了，文慧的老公回来了，一付没事人的样子，简单而粗俗。但是，杨峥最终看出了文慧的矛盾，文慧对现状的不舍，杨峥默默地离开了，留下了一部手机，里面有从1999年开始为文慧录的海的声音，文慧追到海边，看着苍茫的大海，拨打着那部永远都不会有人再接的手机，而杨峥，在另一片海中，空做着拿手机录音的姿势，却永远无法再为文慧记录那片海......让人们忘记爱情的，其实不是时间，而是岁月的沧桑。让人们记得爱情的，其实不是经历，而是离别的感伤。 当陈奕迅的“等你爱我”轻缓唱起时，影院里的我，早已泪流满面...... 琴写在2011年情人节夜后记：关于琴，也许有一天我会写写她的故事，写写这个美丽聪颖多情忧郁的山西女子，写写我们曾经共处的时光。今天在她的空间里看到签名：“赏尽春色，却为何忧郁缠身？”回了一句：心若忧郁，春愁景成空。听说北京的花开得很美了，我突然开始想念北京了。。。。。。
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修炼成仙不如狐媚红尘。吟无用之诗，醉无用之酒，读无用之书，钟无用之情。 赏
反馈:萧了皮, Davidsy 和 最后的坚持 2011-04-16#2 人 Guest
回复: 将爱情进行到底沙发评论
回复: 将爱情进行到底借美女的楼贴一个爱情故事，看这个女人是如何将爱情进行到底的？ Lasting Love by Guy de Maupassant (1850-1893) It was the end of the dinner that opened the shooting season. The Marquis de Bertrans with his guests sat around a brightly lighted table, covered with fruit and flowers. The conversation drifted to love. Immediately there arose an animated discussion, the same eternal discussion as to whether it were possible to love more than once. Examples were given of persons who had loved once; these were offset by those who had loved violently many times. The men agreed that passion, like sickness, may attack the same person several times, unless it strikes to kill. This conclusion seemed quite incontestable. The women, however, who based their opinion on poetry rather than on practical observation, maintained that love, the great passion, may come only once to mortals. It resembles lightning, they said, this love. A heart once touched by it becomes forever such a waste, so ruined, so consumed, that no other strong sentiment can take root there, not even a dream. The marquis, who had indulged in many love affairs, disputed this belief. "I tell you it is possible to love several times with all one's heart and soul. You quote examples of persons who have killed themselves for love, to prove the impossibility of a second passion. I wager that if they had not foolishly committed suicide, and so destroyed the possibility of a second experience, they would have found a new love, and still another, and so on till death. It is with love as with drink. He who has once indulged is forever a slave. It is a thing of temperament." They chose the old doctor as umpire. He thought it was as the marquis had said, a thing of temperament. "As for me," he said, "I once knew of a love which lasted fifty-five years without one day's respite, and which ended only with death." The wife of the marquis clasped her hands. "That is beautiful! Ah, what a dream to be loved in such a way! What bliss to live for fifty-five years enveloped in an intense, unwavering affection! How this happy being must have blessed his life to be so adored!"The doctor smiled."You are not mistaken, madame, on this point the loved one was a man. You even know him; it is Monsieur Chouquet, the chemist. As to the woman, you also know her, the old chair-mender, who came every year to the chateau." The enthusiasm of the women fell. Some expressed their contempt with "Pouah!" for the loves of common people did not interest them. The doctor continued: "Three months ago I was called to the deathbed of the old chair-mender. The priest had preceded me. She wished to make us the executors of her will. In order that we might understand her conduct, she told us the story of her life. It is most singular and touching: Her father and mother were both chair-menders. She had never lived in a house. As a little child she wandered about with them, dirty, unkempt, hungry. They visited many towns, leaving their horse, wagon and dog just outside the limits, where the child played in the grass alone until her parents had repaired all the broken chairs in the place. They seldom spoke, except to cry, 'Chairs! Chairs! Chair-mender!' "When the little one strayed too far away, she would be called back by the harsh, angry voice of her father. She never heard a word of affection. When she grew older, she fetched and carried the broken chairs. Then it was she made friends with the children in the street, but their parents always called them away and scolded them for speaking to the barefooted child. Often the boys threw stones at her. Once a kind woman gave her a few pennies. She saved them most carefully. "One day--she was then eleven years old--as she was walking through a country town she met, behind the cemetery, little Chouquet, weeping bitterly, because one of his playmates had stolen two precious liards (mills). The tears of the small bourgeois, one of those much-envied mortals, who, she imagined, never knew trouble, completely upset her. She approached him and, as soon as she learned the cause of his grief, she put into his hands all her savings. He took them without hesitation and dried his eyes. Wild with joy, she kissed him. He was busy counting his money, and did not object. Seeing that she was not repulsed, she threw her arms round him and gave him a hug--then she ran away. "What was going on in her poor little head? Was it because she had sacrificed all her fortune that she became madly fond of this youngster, or was it because she had given him the first tender kiss? The mystery is alike for children and for those of riper years. For months she dreamed of that corner near the cemetery and of the little chap. She stole a sou here and, there from her parents on the chair money or groceries she was sent to buy. When she returned to the spot near the cemetery she had two francs in her pocket, but he was not there. Passing his father's drug store, she caught sight of him behind the counter. He was sitting between a large red globe and a blue one. She only loved him the more, quite carried away at the sight of the brilliant-colored globes. She cherished the recollection of it forever in her heart. The following year she met him near the school. playing marbles. She rushed up to him, threw her arms round him, and kissed him so passionately that he screamed, in fear. To quiet him, she gave him all her money. Three francs and twenty centimes! A real gold mine, at which he gazed with staring eyes. "After this he allowed her to kiss him as much as she wished. During the next four years she put into his hands all her savings, which he pocketed conscientiously in exchange for kisses. At one time it was thirty sons, at another two francs. Again, she only had twelve sous. She wept with grief and shame, explaining brokenly that it had been a poor year. The next time she brought five francs, in one whole piece, which made her laugh with joy. She no longer thought of any one but the boy, and he watched for her with impatience; sometimes he would run to meet her. This made her heart thump with joy. Suddenly he disappeared. He had gone to boarding school. She found this out by careful investigation. Then she used great diplomacy to persuade her parents to change their route and pass by this way again during vacation. After a year of scheming she succeeded. She had not seen him for two years, and scarcely recognized him, he was so changed, had grown taller, better looking and was imposing in his uniform, with its brass buttons. He pretended not to see her, and passed by without a glance. She wept for two days and from that time loved and suffered unceasingly."Every year he came home and she passed him, not daring to lift her eyes. He never condescended to turn his head toward her. She loved him madly, hopelessly. She said to me:"'He is the only man whom I have ever seen. I don't even know if another exists.' Her parents died. She continued their work."One day, on entering the village, where her heart always remained, she saw Chouquet coming out of his pharmacy with a young lady leaning on his arm. She was his wife. That night the chairmender threw herself into the river. A drunkard passing the spot pulled her out and took her to the drug store. Young Chouquet came down in his dressing gown to revive her. Without seeming to know who she was he undressed her and rubbed her; then he said to her, in a harsh voice:"'You are mad! People must not do stupid things like that.' His voice brought her to life again. He had spoken to her! She was happy for a long time. He refused remuneration for his trouble, although she insisted."All her life passed in this way. She worked, thinking always of him. She began to buy medicines at his pharmacy; this gave her a chance to talk to him and to see him closely. In this way, she was still able to give him money. "As I said before, she died this spring. When she had closed her pathetic story she entreated me to take her earnings to the man she loved. She had worked only that she might leave him something to remind him of her after her death. I gave the priest fifty francs for her funeral expenses. The next morning I went to see the Chouquets. They were finishing breakfast, sitting opposite each other, fat and red, important and self-satisfied. They welcomed me and offered me some coffee, which I accepted. Then I began my story in a trembling voice, sure that they would be softened, even to tears. As soon as Chouquet understood that he had been loved by 'that vagabond! that chair-mender! that wanderer!' he swore with indignation as though his reputation had been sullied, the respect of decent people lost, his personal honor, something precious and dearer to him than life, gone. His exasperated wife kept repeating: 'That beggar! That beggar!' "Seeming unable to find words suitable to the enormity, he stood up and began striding about. He muttered : 'Can you understand anything so horrible, doctor? Oh, if I had only known it while she was alive, I should have had her thrown into prison. I promise you she would not have escaped.' "I was dumfounded; I hardly knew what to think or say, but I had to finish my mission. 'She commissioned me,' I said, 'to give you her savings, which amount to three thousand five hundred francs. As what I have just told you seems to be very disagreeable, perhaps you would prefer to give this money to the poor.'"They looked at me, that man and woman,' speechless with amazement. I took the few thousand francs from out of my pocket. Wretched-looking money from every country. Pennies and gold pieces all mixed together. Then I asked:"'What is your decision?'"Madame Chouquet spoke first. 'Well, since it is the dying woman's wish, it seems to me impossible to refuse it.'"Her husband said, in a shamefaced manner: 'We could buy something for our children with it.'"I answered dryly: 'As you wish.'"He replied: 'Well, give it to us anyhow, since she commissioned you to do so; we will find a way to put it to some good purpose.'"I gave them the money, bowed and left."The next day Chouquet came to me and said brusquely:"'That woman left her wagon here--what have you done with it?'"'Nothing; take it if you wish.'"'It's just what I wanted,' he added, and walked off. I called him back and said:"'She also left her old horse and two dogs. Don't you need them?'"He stared at me surprised: 'Well, no! Really, what would I do with them?'"'Dispose of them as you like.'"He laughed and held out his hand to me. I shook it. What could I do? The doctor and the druggist in a country village must not be at enmity. I have kept the dogs. The priest took the old horse. The wagon is useful to Chouquet, and with the money he has bought railroad stock. That is the only deep, sincere love that I have ever known in all my life."The doctor looked up. The marquise, whose eyes were full of tears, sighed and said:"There is no denying the fact, only women know how to love."
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回复: 将爱情进行到底心若忧郁，春愁景成空。 听说北京的花开得很美了，我突然开始想念北京了。。。。。。点击展开...无语
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亨泽围棋招生6岁以上儿童及成人（入门班、中级班、提高班）地址：列治文太古广场3010室回复: 将爱情进行到底勾起了俺对你朋友博客的偷窥心，想去逛逛。
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回复: 将爱情进行到底片子拍得不怎么样~歌《等你爱我》不错~无论是当初1999年电视剧唱的陈明，还是2011年电影版的陈奕迅。
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挤泡沫之绿色环保经济适用男免费提供加拿大移民定居资料的下载~免费提供Friends（老友记）剧本和字幕（10集大全）下载~~~免费上传正版《大唐双龙传》迷有福了~回复: 将爱情进行到底"There is no denying the fact, only women know how to love."[/QUOTE]人生最大的幸福，是发现自己爱的人正好也爱着自己。你死了，我的故事就结束了；而我死了，你的故事还长的很。聪慧如张爱玲，遇到了胡兰成也一样低到尘埃里。。。。。。无语！其实，继胡兰成之后，又有哪个男人能够通透地欣赏得了张爱玲呢？飞蛾扑火，为爱低到尘埃里只为了心灵盛开那朵美丽的花。
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修炼成仙不如狐媚红尘。吟无用之诗，醉无用之酒，读无用之书，钟无用之情。勾起了俺对你朋友博客的偷窥心，想去逛逛。点击展开...她的博客没有太多内容，呵呵。值得看的我会转到这，比如以下这些感悟。人生人生真正的痛苦，不是漫无目标，也不是追求目标的艰辛，而是你明明知道目标，却明白自己永远也达不到。人生永远的灾难，不是犯错，也不是一错再错，而是你知道了正确的答案，却永远没有机会再更正。人生最大的悲哀，不是失望，也不是绝望，而是虽然心存希望，却不再期望美梦成真。
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修炼成仙不如狐媚红尘。吟无用之诗，醉无用之酒，读无用之书，钟无用之情。她的博客没有太多内容，呵呵。 值得看的我会转到这，比如以下这些感悟。 人生 人生真正的痛苦，不是漫无目标，也不是追求目标的艰辛，而是你明明知道目标，却明白自己永远也达不到。 人生永远的灾难，不是犯错，也不是一错再错，而是你知道了正确的答案，却永远没有机会再更正。 人生最大的悲哀，不是失望，也不是绝望，而是虽然心存希望，却不再期望美梦成真。点击展开...omg it's so true
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回复: 将爱情进行到底人生最大的幸福，是发现自己爱的人正好也爱着自己。你死了，我的故事就结束了；而我死了，你的故事还长的很。 聪慧如张爱玲，遇到了胡兰成也一样低到尘埃里。。。。。。 无语！其实，继胡兰成之后，又有哪个男人能够通透地欣赏得了张爱玲呢？飞蛾扑火，为爱低到尘埃里只为了心灵盛开那朵美丽的花。点击展开...呵呵. 人生最大的幸福, 是发现自己没有爱情也很幸福.
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回复: 将爱情进行到底呵呵. 人生最大的幸福, 是发现自己没有爱情也很幸福.点击展开...幸福是什么？幸福是一种来自于内心的愉悦的感受心灵震颤。呵呵，所以只要自己觉得内心愉悦得到满足那么幸福就随手可取了。
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修炼成仙不如狐媚红尘。吟无用之诗，醉无用之酒，读无用之书，钟无用之情。沙发点击展开...谢谢捧场哈。
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修炼成仙不如狐媚红尘。吟无用之诗，醉无用之酒，读无用之书，钟无用之情。借美女的楼贴一个爱情故事，看这个女人是如何将爱情进行到底的？ Lasting Love by Guy de Maupassant (1850-1893) It was the end of the dinner that opened the shooting season. The Marquis de Bertrans with his guests sat around a brightly lighted table, covered with fruit and flowers. The conversation drifted to love. Immediately there arose an animated discussion, the same eternal discussion as to whether it were possible to love more than once. Examples were given of persons who had loved once; these were offset by those who had loved violently many times. The men agreed that passion, like sickness, may attack the same person several times, unless it strikes to kill. This conclusion seemed quite incontestable. The women, however, who based their opinion on poetry rather than on practical observation, maintained that love, the great passion, may come only once to mortals. It resembles lightning, they said, this love. A heart once touched by it becomes forever such a waste, so ruined, so consumed, that no other strong sentiment can take root there, not even a dream. The marquis, who had indulged in many love affairs, disputed this belief. "I tell you it is possible to love several times with all one's heart and soul. You quote examples of persons who have killed themselves for love, to prove the impossibility of a second passion. I wager that if they had not foolishly committed suicide, and so destroyed the possibility of a second experience, they would have found a new love, and still another, and so on till death. It is with love as with drink. He who has once indulged is forever a slave. It is a thing of temperament." They chose the old doctor as umpire. He thought it was as the marquis had said, a thing of temperament. "As for me," he said, "I once knew of a love which lasted fifty-five years without one day's respite, and which ended only with death." The wife of the marquis clasped her hands. "That is beautiful! Ah, what a dream to be loved in such a way! What bliss to live for fifty-five years enveloped in an intense, unwavering affection! How this happy being must have blessed his life to be so adored!"The doctor smiled."You are not mistaken, madame, on this point the loved one was a man. You even know him; it is Monsieur Chouquet, the chemist. As to the woman, you also know her, the old chair-mender, who came every year to the chateau." The enthusiasm of the women fell. Some expressed their contempt with "Pouah!" for the loves of common people did not interest them. The doctor continued: "Three months ago I was called to the deathbed of the old chair-mender. The priest had preceded me. She wished to make us the executors of her will. In order that we might understand her conduct, she told us the story of her life. It is most singular and touching: Her father and mother were both chair-menders. She had never lived in a house. As a little child she wandered about with them, dirty, unkempt, hungry. They visited many towns, leaving their horse, wagon and dog just outside the limits, where the child played in the grass alone until her parents had repaired all the broken chairs in the place. They seldom spoke, except to cry, 'Chairs! Chairs! Chair-mender!' "When the little one strayed too far away, she would be called back by the harsh, angry voice of her father. She never heard a word of affection. When she grew older, she fetched and carried the broken chairs. Then it was she made friends with the children in the street, but their parents always called them away and scolded them for speaking to the barefooted child. Often the boys threw stones at her. Once a kind woman gave her a few pennies. She saved them most carefully. "One day--she was then eleven years old--as she was walking through a country town she met, behind the cemetery, little Chouquet, weeping bitterly, because one of his playmates had stolen two precious liards (mills). The tears of the small bourgeois, one of those much-envied mortals, who, she imagined, never knew trouble, completely upset her. She approached him and, as soon as she learned the cause of his grief, she put into his hands all her savings. He took them without hesitation and dried his eyes. Wild with joy, she kissed him. He was busy counting his money, and did not object. Seeing that she was not repulsed, she threw her arms round him and gave him a hug--then she ran away. "What was going on in her poor little head? Was it because she had sacrificed all her fortune that she became madly fond of this youngster, or was it because she had given him the first tender kiss? The mystery is alike for children and for those of riper years. For months she dreamed of that corner near the cemetery and of the little chap. She stole a sou here and, there from her parents on the chair money or groceries she was sent to buy. When she returned to the spot near the cemetery she had two francs in her pocket, but he was not there. Passing his father's drug store, she caught sight of him behind the counter. He was sitting between a large red globe and a blue one. She only loved him the more, quite carried away at the sight of the brilliant-colored globes. She cherished the recollection of it forever in her heart. The following year she met him near the school. playing marbles. She rushed up to him, threw her arms round him, and kissed him so passionately that he screamed, in fear. To quiet him, she gave him all her money. Three francs and twenty centimes! A real gold mine, at which he gazed with staring eyes. "After this he allowed her to kiss him as much as she wished. During the next four years she put into his hands all her savings, which he pocketed conscientiously in exchange for kisses. At one time it was thirty sons, at another two francs. Again, she only had twelve sous. She wept with grief and shame, explaining brokenly that it had been a poor year. The next time she brought five francs, in one whole piece, which made her laugh with joy. She no longer thought of any one but the boy, and he watched for her with impatience; sometimes he would run to meet her. This made her heart thump with joy. Suddenly he disappeared. He had gone to boarding school. She found this out by careful investigation. Then she used great diplomacy to persuade her parents to change their route and pass by this way again during vacation. After a year of scheming she succeeded. She had not seen him for two years, and scarcely recognized him, he was so changed, had grown taller, better looking and was imposing in his uniform, with its brass buttons. He pretended not to see her, and passed by without a glance. She wept for two days and from that time loved and suffered unceasingly."Every year he came home and she passed him, not daring to lift her eyes. He never condescended to turn his head toward her. She loved him madly, hopelessly. She said to me:"'He is the only man whom I have ever seen. I don't even know if another exists.' Her parents died. She continued their work."One day, on entering the village, where her heart always remained, she saw Chouquet coming out of his pharmacy with a young lady leaning on his arm. She was his wife. That night the chairmender threw herself into the river. A drunkard passing the spot pulled her out and took her to the drug store. Young Chouquet came down in his dressing gown to revive her. Without seeming to know who she was he undressed her and rubbed her; then he said to her, in a harsh voice:"'You are mad! People must not do stupid things like that.' His voice brought her to life again. He had spoken to her! She was happy for a long time. He refused remuneration for his trouble, although she insisted."All her life passed in this way. She worked, thinking always of him. She began to buy medicines at his pharmacy; this gave her a chance to talk to him and to see him closely. In this way, she was still able to give him money. "As I said before, she died this spring. When she had closed her pathetic story she entreated me to take her earnings to the man she loved. She had worked only that she might leave him something to remind him of her after her death. I gave the priest fifty francs for her funeral expenses. The next morning I went to see the Chouquets. They were finishing breakfast, sitting opposite each other, fat and red, important and self-satisfied. They welcomed me and offered me some coffee, which I accepted. Then I began my story in a trembling voice, sure that they would be softened, even to tears. As soon as Chouquet understood that he had been loved by 'that vagabond! that chair-mender! that wanderer!' he swore with indignation as though his reputation had been sullied, the respect of decent people lost, his personal honor, something precious and dearer to him than life, gone. His exasperated wife kept repeating: 'That beggar! That beggar!' "Seeming unable to find words suitable to the enormity, he stood up and began striding about. He muttered : 'Can you understand anything so horrible, doctor? Oh, if I had only known it while she was alive, I should have had her thrown into prison. I promise you she would not have escaped.' "I was dumfounded; I hardly knew what to think or say, but I had to finish my mission. 'She commissioned me,' I said, 'to give you her savings, which amount to three thousand five hundred francs. As what I have just told you seems to be very disagreeable, perhaps you would prefer to give this money to the poor.'"They looked at me, that man and woman,' speechless with amazement. I took the few thousand francs from out of my pocket. Wretched-looking money from every country. Pennies and gold pieces all mixed together. Then I asked:"'What is your decision?'"Madame Chouquet spoke first. 'Well, since it is the dying woman's wish, it seems to me impossible to refuse it.'"Her husband said, in a shamefaced manner: 'We could buy something for our children with it.'"I answered dryly: 'As you wish.'"He replied: 'Well, give it to us anyhow, since she commissioned you to do so; we will find a way to put it to some good purpose.'"I gave them the money, bowed and left."The next day Chouquet came to me and said brusquely:"'That woman left her wagon here--what have you done with it?'"'Nothing; take it if you wish.'"'It's just what I wanted,' he added, and walked off. I called him back and said:"'She also left her old horse and two dogs. Don't you need them?'"He stared at me surprised: 'Well, no! Really, what would I do with them?'"'Dispose of them as you like.'"He laughed and held out his hand to me. I shook it. What could I do? The doctor and the druggist in a country village must not be at enmity. I have kept the dogs. The priest took the old horse. The wagon is useful to Chouquet, and with the money he has bought railroad stock. That is the only deep, sincere love that I have ever known in all my life."The doctor looked up. The marquise, whose eyes were full of tears, sighed and said:"There is no denying the fact, only women know how to love."点击展开... 哪位大仙贴的 你自己看完了吗?
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回复: 将爱情进行到底哪位大仙贴的 你自己看完了吗?点击展开...我看完了，简单的说就是一个从小缺乏家庭温暖缺乏亲情被世人远离耻笑与排斥的可怜女孩，在童年时因为一次偶然的机会遇到一个男孩，她因为用金钱帮助了那男孩得到了自己第一次的不被拒绝。她吻了他，而从此一生爱上了这个男孩，并且用自己的生命诠释了对爱的永恒与执着。她生命的意义都是因为那个男孩，她所做的一切都是为了他，而那个男孩却从未正眼瞧过她，甚至以她的爱为耻辱。因为他们之间的交往起源于钱，所以可怜的女孩一生所努力挣的钱也全数留给了那个男的，哪怕它们是那么微不足道。她的爱谦卑而伟大，毫不计较无怨无悔，世人为之动容。我读到的只有心酸与感动。
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修炼成仙不如狐媚红尘。吟无用之诗，醉无用之酒，读无用之书，钟无用之情。我看完了，简单的说就是一个从小缺乏家庭温暖缺乏亲情被世人远离耻笑的可怜女孩，在童年时因为一次偶然的机会遇到一个男孩，她因为用金钱帮助了那男孩得到了自己第一次的不被拒绝。她吻了他，而从此一生爱上了这个男孩，并且用自己的生命诠释了对爱的永恒与执着。她所做的一切都是为了他，而那个男孩却从未正眼瞧过她，甚至以她的爱为耻辱。因为他们之间的交往起源于钱，所以可怜的女孩一生所努力挣的钱也全数留给了那个男的，哪怕它们是那么微不足道。她的爱谦卑而伟大，毫不计较无怨无悔，世人为之动容。我读到的只有心酸与感动。点击展开...莫非境界不够, 看不进去最简单的道理,明明应该两个人的事,干嘛一个人干啊? 换有人为我干或许感动哈哈, 不过也不行, 老欠人家的, 还不了自己也不舒服,所以这样的事坚决不能干,别人给也不能要
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回复: 将爱情进行到底我手机铃声就是它，陈奕迅王菲的将爱进行到底......
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回复: 将爱情进行到底楼主是才女
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回复: 将爱情进行到底谢谢捧场哈。点击展开...不是来捧场，俺是特意来将爱情进行到底。
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回复: 将爱情进行到底哪位大仙贴的 你自己看完了吗?点击展开...才几天，就不认识“酱骨头”了，算你狠
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回复: 将爱情进行到底才几天，就不认识“酱骨头”了，算你狠点击展开... 哈哈,我YY出来根骨头你也信 不然你帮我找找, 找出来我认
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