“It seemed to me that people do a rather good job of creating levels of hell all by themselves, and this was something worth writing about.”

“What was the point, I told myself, of trying to explain to people who would never understand? Frankness just stirred up trouble amoung women who thought only of themselves, always looking for reasons to carp and complain. It was so rare to find anyone who truly understood, I had learned to keep my thoughts to myself. In fact, if I had never had the experience of knowing such a one, I might have said it was impossible. Most people judge everything by their own narrow standards. Page 357”

“I could always tell when I was ready to write again, for I became irritable.”

“But how ridiculous that I should bereft simply because I couldn’t spend hours in my world of make-believe! Wasn’t the reality of my life interesting enough? This is surely the time to let go of grievances, I told myself sternly. What good does it do to dwell on them? Brooding on a nest of grudges will only hatch more grief.”

“In white, everything was vividly stark, like those line drawings in which everyone's black hair seems to literally to grow from the paper.”

“Why couldn’t I simply accept things as they were and be grateful? I wondered. How I envied people whose desires were simple and who could find joy in life as it is. Surely there was no reason why I shouldn’t take pleasure in the marvelous things I was in a position to see and hear – yet all I felt was weariness. Page 329”

“I realized that when we finally reached Miyako, I would be stepping into a new life and would have to stop thinking about Ming-gwok. I imagined a small lacquered box inlaid with silver and gold in a pattern of curling waves, inset with silver cranes. Into this imaginary box I placed all my memories of Ming-gwok and secretly tucked it away in my heart.”