I discovered that maybe it was fate all along, that faith was just an illusion that somehow you're in control.

For all these years I kept my mouth closed so selfish desires would not fall out. And because I remained quiet for so long now my daughter does not hear me... All these years I kept my true nature hidden, running along like a small shadow so nobody could catch me. And because I moved so secretly now my daughter does not see me... We are lost, she and I, unseen and not seeing; unheard and not hearing, unknown by others.

That is the way it is with a wound. The wound begins to close in on itself, to protect what is hurting so much. And once it is closed, you no longer see what is underneath, what started the pain.

I read a book a day when I was a kid. My family was not literary; we did not have any books in the house.

Writing what you wished was the most dangerous form of wishful thinking.

I used to think that my mother got into arguments with people because they didn't understand her English, because she was Chinese.

I wanted to write stories for myself. At first it was purely an aesthetic thing about craft. I just wanted to become good at the art of something. And writing was very private.