It was a distorted form of inverse logic: If hopes never come true, then hope for what you don't want.

We are the kind of people who obsess over one word... but we have only one shot to get it right in concert. It was hard the first time I practiced with them. I was so nervous that my vocal chords were paralyzed for about a half-hour.

My sisters and I stand, arms around each other, laughind and wiping the tears from each others eyes. The flash of the Polaroid goes off and my family hands me the snapshot. My sisters and I watch quietly together, eager to see what develops. Ghe grey-greensurface changes to the bright colors of our three images, sharpening and deepening all at once. And although we don't speak, I know we all see it: Together we look like our mother. Her same eyes, her same mouth, open in suprise to see, her long-cherished wish.

My mother said I was a clingy kid until I was about four. I also remember that from the age of eight she and I fought almost every day.

No two languages are ever sufficiently similar to be considered as representing the same social reality. The worlds in which different societies live are distinct worlds, not merely the same world with different labels attached.

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

We dream to give ourselves hope. To stop dreaming - well, that’s like saying you can never change your fate.