他的桌子上摞着高高的一堆文件。
高高的屋顶使声音更响亮。
衣服在椅子上堆得高高的。
He always kept his poise to the top branches, climbing carefully with the same pains you use to fill a cup up to the brim, and even above the brim.
他始终稳住身子,不摇不晃地,直到那高高的顶枝上----小心翼翼地,往上爬,那全神贯注的样儿,就像,把一杯水倒满,满到了杯口,甚至满过了边缘。
She was meant to remember. She faced that possibility as she might the toy street from a high balcony, roller-coaster ride, feeding time among the beasts in a zoo, any death wish that can be consummated by some minimum gesture.
她生来就是为了回忆的,她面临着一种可能性,当她在一个高高的阳台看着玩具街时,当她坐过山车时,当她在动物园里喂野兽时,通过一个小小的手势。
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