North of the Alps, the everlasting winter is interrupted by summers that
struggle and soon yield; south of the Alps, the everlasting summer is
interrupted by spasmodic and spiteful winters that never get a real
hold, but that are mean and dogged. The in-between, in either case, is
just as it may be. But the lands of the sun are south of the Alps, forever.
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张佳远
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