I've studied Chinese in college, but basically, I'm not bilingual.

I visited a new cultural center in Shanghai in 2005 that was pretty much perfect, except for the really badly translated Chinglish signs: a handicapped restroom that said 'Deformed Man's Toilet,' that kind of thing.

Chinese culture in general is not very religious. Confucianism is more a code of ethics than a religion, and ancestor worship is a way for parents to control you even after they're dead.

'Yellow Face' marks my summation of multiculturalism.

I’ve never quite understood the idea of a “season.” Whenever an artistic director says to me, ‘I have this slot,’ I always start to feel we’re parking cars or something.

For the myths of the East, the myths of the West, the myths of men, and the myths of women – these have so saturated our consciousness that truthful contact between nations and lovers can only be the result of heroic effort.

Only a man knows how a woman is supposed to act.

But is it possible for a woman to be too uninhibited, too willing, so as to seem almost too... masculine?

The West believes the East, deep down, wants to be dominated, because a woman can’t think for herself.

This is the ultimate cruelty, isn’t it? That I can talk and talk and to anyone listening, it’s only air – too rich a diet to be swallowed by a mundane world.