I Would Rather Be Married

I Am Still Learning About Love. I Thought I Understood It--not Just Mother Love, But The Love For One's Parents, For One's Husband, And For One's Laotong. I've Experienced The Other Types Of Love--pity Love, Respectful Love And Gratitude Love. But Looking At Our Secret Fan With Its Messages Written Between Snow Flower And Me Over Many Years, I See That I Didn't Value The Most Important Love--deep-heart Love.

Mama Used To Tell Us A Story About A Cicada Sitting High In A Tree. It Chirps And Drinks In Dew, Oblivious To The Praying Mantis Behind It. The Mantis Arches Up Its Front Leg To Stab The Cicada, But It Doesn't Know An Oriole Perches Behind It. The Bird Stretches Out Its Neck To Snap Up The Mantis For A Midday Meal, But Its Unaware Of The Boy Who's Come Into The Garden With A Net. Three Creatures—the Cicada, The Mantis And The Oriole—all Coveted Gains Without Being Aware Of The Greater And Inescapable Danger That Was Coming.

My Hardcover Sales Are 17% Down In Books But Up 400% In Electronics.

I Wonder If There Was Anything I Would Have Done Differently. I Hope I Would Have Done Everything Differently, Except I Know Everything Would Have Turned Out The Same. That's The Meaning Of Fate.

The Greatest Calling Of All Is To Have A Literary Life.