Yesterday my daughter said to me, ‘My marriage is falling apart.’ And now all she can do is watch it falling.
Yet part of me also thinks the whole idea makes perfect sense. The three of us, leaving our differences behind, stepping on the plane together, sitting side by side, lifting off, moving West to reach the East.
After all, Bao Bomu says, what is the past but what we choose to remember?
There’s no hope. There’s no reason to keep trying. Because you must. This is not hope. Not reason. This is your fate. This is your life, what you must do.
Only two kinds of daughters, she shouted in Chinese. Those who are obedient and those who follow their own mind!
For unlike my mother, I did not believe I could be anything I wanted to be. I could only be me.
And after I played them both a few times, I realized they were two halves of the same song.
People there only dream that it is China, because if you are Chinese you can never let go of China in your mind.
And then she had to fill out so many forms she forgot why she had come and what she had left behind.
When you already believe something, how can you suddenly stop? When you are a loyal friend, how can you no longer be one?
He asked if he could recite a poem he had written that morning: ‘You speak,’ he said, ’the language of shooting stars, more surprising than sunrise, more brilliant than the sun, as brief as sunset. I want to follow its trail to eternity.
We are living in a world where everything is false. The society is like bright paint applied on top of rotten wood.
I felt stuck in the bottom of a wishing well. I was desperate to shout what I wanted, but I didn’t know what that was. I knew only what it wasn’t. The Hundred Secret Senses by Amy Tan.
With hope, a mind is always free.
You should think about your character. Know where you are changing, how you will be changed, what cannot be changed back again.
So much of history is mystery. We don’t know what is lost forever, what will surface again. All objects exist in a moment of time. And that fragment of time is preserved or lost or found in mysterious ways. Mystery is a wonderful part of life.
Whenever I’m with my mother, I feel as though I have to spend the whole time avoiding land mines.
A mother is always the beggining. She is how things begin.
Hope is the adrenalin of the soul.
Don’t think too much. That makes you believe you have more choices than you do. Then your mind becomes confused.