“Scarlett, I was never one to patiently pick up broken fragments and glue them
together and tell myself that the mended whole was as good as new. What is
broken is broken—and I’d rather remember it as it was at its best than mend it and
see the broken places as long as I lived. Perhaps, if I were younger—” he sighed.
“But I’m too old to believe in such sentimentalities as clean slates and starting all
over. I’m too old to shoulder the burden of constant lies that go with living in
polite disillusionment. I couldn’t live with you and lie to you and I certainly
couldn’t lie to myself. I can’t even lie to you now. I wish I could care what you do
or where you go, but I can’t.”
“斯嘉丽，我从来不是那样的人，不能耐心的拾起一些碎片，把它们粘合在一起，然后对自己说这个修补好了的东西跟新的完全一样。一样东西破碎了就是破碎了——我宁愿记住它最好时的模样，而不想把它修补好，然后终生看着那些破碎了的地方。也许，假使我还年轻一点——可是我已经这么大年纪了，不能相信那种纯属感情的说法，说是一切都可以从头开始。我这么大年纪了，不能终生背着谎言的负担，在貌似体面地幻灭中过日子。我不能跟你生活在一起同时又对你说谎，而且我决不能欺骗自己。就是现在，我也不能对你说谎话啊！我是很想关心你今后的情况的，可是我不能那样做。”
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