He asked if he could recite a poem he had written that morning: 'You speak,' he said, 'the language of shooting stars, more surprising than sunrise, more brilliant than the sun, as brief as sunset. I want to follow its trail to eternity.

And now I also see what part of me is Chinese. It is so obvious. It is my family. It is in our blood.

We all had our miseries. But to despair was to wish back for something already lost. Or to prolong what was already unbearable. -Suyuan

With hope, a mind is always free.

Chance is the first step you take, luck is what comes afterward.

From what I have observed, when the anesthesia of love wears off, there is always the pain of consequences. You don't have to be stupid to marry the wrong man.

They know where happiness lies, not in a cave or a country, but in love and the freedom to give and take what has been there all along.