Haven’t we all, as time continues, found that we must be kind to ourselves and listen to our thoughts, because fewer and fewer of those remain who know what is most real to us?

The inner Min starved; she woke in the middle of the night, then lay for hours wondering what was wrong.

Like ginseng roots, our buried pasts have different shapes.

The people who matter the most to us in the end, who teach us the most, are the people who make their worst mistakes with us.

She'll be an excellent novelist: a monster of self-absorption.

Who would one rather be? The one who desires, or the object of desire? One's answer to this question might determine if he is meant to be a poet or something else entirely.

Inadequate love is love. Unrequited love is love.

What do you mean by yuanfen?"She thought for a minute and replied, "It means: that apportionment of love which is destined for you in this world.

The sincere reaction to making meaningful art is often speechlessness. We make art about what we cannot understand through any other method. The finished product is like a pearl, complete and beautiful, but mute about itself. The writer has given us this piece of his interior and there is frequently no explanation, nothing to be said about it. Often, the writer himself has very little idea of what he has created.