在洛斯·阿拉莫斯和拉斯穆森匆匆吃过午餐之后(那地方让我失魂落魄的)，我不相信这会是我曾经称为生命的东西。
After having a nervous lunch in Los Alamos with Rasmussen (the place spooked me out), I'm not convinced it will be something I would ever call life.
关于想象，我认为那属于厄洛斯，但并非说想象就能定义厄洛斯，厄洛斯的，我不应该说厄洛斯，是厄洛斯的。
About the imagination, I think of that as belonging to eros, but it isn't as if that defines eros, the erotic. I shouldn't say eros. I mean the erotic.
当马吕斯抱着伽弗洛什走进棱堡时，他象那孩子一样，脸上也是鲜血淋淋。
When Marius re-entered the redoubt with Gavroche in his arms,his face, like the child, was inundated with blood.
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