My mother didn't teach me lessons about being Chinese as strongly as she did the notion of who I was as a female.

And below the heimongmong, all along the ground, were weeds already spilling out over the edges, running wild in every direction.

And for all those years, we never talked about the disaster at the recital or my terrible accusations afterward at the piano bench. All that remained unchecked, like a betrayal that was now unbreakable. So I never found a way to ask her why she had hoped something so large that failure was inevitable. And even worse, I never asked her what frightened me the most: Why had she given up hope?

With hope, a mind is always free.

Don't think too much. That makes you believe you have more choices than you do. Then you mind becomes confused.

Now you see,' said the turtle, drifting back into the pond, 'why it is useless to cry. Your tears do not wash away your sorrows. They feed someone else's joy. And that is why you must learn to swallow your own tears.

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.