I love research. I’d go so far as to say I’m a research fanatic.
All these types of love come out of duty, respect, and gratitude. Most of them, as the women in my county know, are sources of sadness, rupture, and brutality.
She loves you. She’s just forgotten how to show it.
When the sun is shining, think of the time it won’t be, because even when you’re sitting in your house with the doors shut, misfortune can fall from above. Page 279.
Obey, obey, obey, then do what you want.
The classics tell us that, in relationships, the one between teacher and student comes second only to the one between parent and child.
Anyone who says that women do not have influence in men’s decisions makes a vast and stupid mistake.
I know a lot about women and their suffering, but I still know almost nothing about men.
Gone were my girlish ideas about romantic love and my later ideas about sexual love. From Yi, I learned to appreciate deep-heart love. Peony in Love.
I think all women have a friend who at some point dumped them or betrayed them or deeply disappointed them. And at the same time all women have a friend who they dumped or betrayed or hurt in some way. That’s universal in women’s friendships.
Perhaps he was afraid as I was that we’d be caught. Or perhaps he was breathing me in just as I was letting him come into my lungs, my eyes, my heart.
Parents die, daughters grow up and marry out, but sisters are for life.
In that moment I understood that the cruelest words in the universe are if only.
I’ve never thought much about whether I was happy or if I had fun as a child. I was a so-so girl who lived with a so-so family in a so-so village. I didn’t know that there might be another way to live, and I didn’t worry about it either.
How can we not create a fantasy in our minds when the reality is so hard?
What stays with me most is a general sense of loss, unease, and longing for the past that cannot be relieved.
When people are alive they love, when they die, they keep loving. If love ends when person dies, that is not real love.
Dreaming, dreaming, dreaming – weren’t our dreams what gave us strength, hope, and desire?
My love for him had never gone away but only changed, growing deeper like wine fermenting or pickles curing. It bore into me with the pervasiveness of water working its way to the center of a mountain.
Snow Flower was my old same for life. I had a greater and deeper love for her than I could ever feel for a person who was my husband.