If one wants to get a boat ride, one must be near the river.
lack of will power leads to more failure than lack of intelligence or ability.
My goal was to do anything that would lead to a job. I know that writing would not lead to a job. It's too fancy for me. My biggest goal was to be an office receptionist, answer phones. I didn't expect to go beyond that.
We were meant to survive because of our minds' ability to reason, our ability to live with frustration in order to maintain our virtue. We wore smiling masks while dying inside.
I was happy not to be in his place. He could command my death, but not his. But then, what kind of power was his? He was a prisoner of himself.
If you can't go back to your mother's womb, you'd better learn to be a good fighter.
When Chinese get together - what's buried stays buried. We don't even discuss our embarrassing early days struggling in Chicago.
my mother was taught the ch'an concept of happiness, which was to find satisfaction in small things. i was taught to appreciate the fresh air in the morning, the colour of leaves turning red in autumn and the water's smoothness when i soaked my hands in the basin.
There have been 50 or 60 books written about Empress Orchid, but none of them bothered to really examine the period in China when she lived. I was taught that she was evil; it's in all the textbooks.
To be able to do art, it was a luxury to me.
The self was a very strange concept to me until I came to America, and my child was born with that entitlement, and that just thrilled me.
No matter how American I become, I'm considered part of the Chinese community by my own family.
My parents lived likeas the neighbours described thema pair of chopsticks, always in harmony.
My mind swirled with memories of the life I had led. The constant struggle to keep up appearances, the pretenses, the smiles that had been met with tears. The long sleepless nights, the loneliness that cloaked my spirit and turned me into a true ghost.
The sun doesn't just hang on one family's tree
Do you know who Karl Marx is? He is this strange little man, long dead, who lived his narrow little life, and somehow managed by the power of his wayward brain to lay hold upon millions of human lives!
I think about giving up. I almost do.
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