Eileen Chang Quotes

Between memory and reality there are awkward discrepancies...

The miracle of children is that we just don’t know how they will change or who they will become.

We don't go to the ocean for anything as simple as happiness, do we? We go there to feel alive. Like life, the ocean holds chance and change, grief and terror and beauty. It promises mortality, not peace.

In that little pocket-size world of his, he was the absolute master.

Shijun, we can't go back.

She wasn’t a bird in a cage. A bird in a cage, when the cage is opened, can still fly away. She was a bird embroidered onto a screen — a white bird in clouds of gold stitched onto a screen of melancholy satin. The years passed; the bird’s feathers darkened, mildewed, and were eaten by moths, but the bird stayed on the screen even in death.

Thinking is painful business.

I thought if I moved away, I could move away from all of it, but the memories were still with me. The fact that I was shy and awkward didn't change just because I changed locations.

I want you to know there’s someone in this world who’s yours always. Please know that, forever and wherever. Yours, always

If you knew the old me, maybe you could forgive the current me.

Maybe a love like that came to a person only once in a lifetime? Once was enough, maybe.

Alive, her body belonged to him; dead, she was his ghost.

They simply had to fill this terrifying emptiness–otherwise, their brains might start working. Thinking is painful business.

Oh, it’s not important. It’s just a glove!” Manzhen spoke lightly, but in fact she was upset. Sometimes she focused so hard on little things she was almost small-minded. But Shijun, when he looked back at it all, treasured this trait of hers. Manzhen was the kind of person who, once something came into her possession, cherished it till it became, in her eyes, the best thing ever. He knew, because he’d once been hers.

Her voice, her smile, her every gesture was utterly familiar to him: these traces of her presence had danced in his dreams for years, and now he beheld them with waking eyes. Fate is cruel, but it’s a cruelty that suffuses sweetness into the suffering.

The most fascinating people, those who made a mark on this Earth, who changed history and culture are always those who were a little different.

In truth, every time she was with Yee she felt cleansed, as if by a scalding hot bath; for now everything she did was for the cause.

Although I wished him dead, I did not want him to die. I wanted him to change, be good to me, apologize for the half decade of grief he’d given me.

The moon of thirty years ago has gone down long since and the people of thirty years ago are dead but the story of thirty years ago is not yet ended—can have no ending.

Fundamental truth is unyielding, like a mountain.

words have always buried themselves in me so deep like knives I have always twisted them making beautiful things ugly changing hello to goodbye creating wounds our of nothing

If you care about our living planet, it's time to take part in bringing awareness to our climate and extinction crisis.

All the times he’d dreamed of seeing her again—it was happening now, but was utterly unlike anything he’d imagined. A feeling he could not describe, his mind blank, his heart dazed.

Opening her handbag, she took out a small bottle of perfume and touched the stopper behind her ears. Its cool, glassy edge felt like her only point of contact with tangible reality.

Maybe every man has two such women—at least two. Marry a red rose and eventually she'll be a mosquito-blood streak smeared on the wall, while the white one is "moonlight in front of my bed." Marry a white rose, and before long she'll be a grain of sticky rice that's gotten stuck to your clothes; the red one, by then, is a scarlet beauty mark just over your heart.

Maybe the only way to make the life I'd been wishing for a reality was to do something big. If destiny was going to try and keep me here, I was going to have to do something bold to change it.

What was it all for? Furlong wondered. The work and the constant worry. Getting up in the dark and going to the yard, making the deliveries, one after another, the whole day long, then coming home in the dark and trying to wash the black off himself and sitting into a dinner at the table and falling asleep before waking in the dark to meet a version of the same thing, yet again. Might things never change or develop into something else, or new? Lately, he had begun to wonder what mattered, apart from Eileen and the girls. He was touching forty but didn’t feel himself to be getting anywhere or making any kind of headway and could not but sometimes wonder what the days were for.

Her broken sentences hung in midair like the pendulums of several clocks, each ticking along at a different speed, each following its own logic and reaching its own conclusions, each rising up at a different moment, each hammering its bell at a different time....

She felt surprised that it was still light outside, as if inside the store she had lost all sense of time. The pavement around her was heaving with humanity; pedicab after pedicab rushed past on the road, all of them taken. Pedestrians and vehicles flowed on by, as if separated from her by a wall of glass, and no more accessible than the elegant mannequins in the window of the Green House Ladies’ Clothing Emporium—you could look, but you couldn’t touch. They glided along, imperviously serene, as she stood on the outside, alone in her agitation.

My tattoos are permanent; it’s just my body that’s temporary. So is yours. We’re only here on earth for a short while, so I decided a long time ago that I wanted to decorate myself as playfully as I can, while I still have time.” I love this so much, I can’t even tell you. Because—like Eileen—I also want to live the most vividly decorated temporary life that I can. I don’t just mean physically; I mean emotionally, spiritually, intellectually. I don’t want to be afraid of bright colors, or new sounds, or big love, or risky decisions, or strange experiences, or weird endeavors, or sudden changes, or even failure.

Eileen wanted her daughter to shrink herself to fit into the space the world allotted, instead of fighting to change the systems and institutions that wanted women to keep themselves small. She treated Abby like a problem in need of solving instead of asking, even once, whether it was the world, not her daughter, that might have been wrong.

was sprawled on the family-room couch, half asleep in front of a Clint Eastwood movie. A can of ginger ale and an empty bag of pretzels sat on the table in front of him. He opened one eye and saw Maura, then looked at Greg and winked. “Hey, little buddy . . . I see your ladyfriend is here.” Greg felt the urge to lash out, like he’d done with Eileen and Brittany at school on Friday morning. But this time he didn’t take the bait. He said, “We’re just copying some artwork. For a project we’re doing. And it’s gonna make noise. We have to.” Ross heaved himself up off the couch, shut off the TV, burped, mumbled, “’Scuse me” in Maura’s general direction, and went looking for a quieter place to waste another hour or two. Greg said, “I got this paper that’s good and bright, but it’s not as thick as regular copy paper. Makes it easier to fold.” After placing the first master sheet face down on the glass, he pushed Print, and then held up the copy for Maura to see. Pointing at a gray area, he said, “See that? I can change the settings and make that part darker. It ought to be solid black. Except for that, it’s a good copy.” The machine beeped as Greg made the change, and then he pushed the Print button.

Small white clouds floated in the blue sky above, and on the street a flute vendor was playing the flute - a sharp, soft, sinuous, Oriental tune that twisted and turned in the ear like embroidery, like a picture of a dream in a novel, a trail of white mist coming out from under the bed curtain and unfurling all sorts of images, slowly uncoiling like a lazy snake, till finally the drowsiness is just too great, and even the dream falls asleep.

It was said, in an earlier age, that the mind of man is a far country which can be neither approached nor explored. But today, under present conditions of scientific achievement, it will be possible for a nation as rich in human and material resources as ours to make the most remote recesses of the mind accessible,” the president vowed. “The mentally ill and the mentally retarded need no longer be alien to our affections or beyond the help of our communities.

I see my existence as similar to that of a sundial's when I simply stand, and slowly the notion of movement is suggesting itself to my consciousness and action is also appropriate in the realm of the saint, the character who begins her life in the windows of a church, in the religious air of her own imagination until history lines up with her nature, and the path becomes clear -- the storms of identity erupt and implode and gather again and one of life's soldiers realizes her whole basis for living has changed and now she is impelled forward in a new film.

I’m socially impaired. I get surprised all the time by people saying and doing irrational things. Take gay marriage. Why would some people get so upset that people they didn’t even know wanted to get married?” “For the same reason men denied women the vote for so long. It threatens their status and their understanding of the world.” She beamed, delighted that he saw it, too. “That’s right! I had to think and think to figure that out. Though I still don’t see why they’re so scared of changing their minds.” “Because the world is a dangerous place. If it doesn’t work the way we believe it does, the danger becomes unmanageable.

She felt a numb chill creeping up the back of her head; the display windows downstairs and the glass door between them seemed to be broadening out, growing taller, as if behind her were an enormous, two-story-high expanse of brilliant, fragile glass, ready to disintegrate at any moment. But even as she felt almost dizzy with the precariousness of her situation, the shop seemed to be blanketing her in torpor. Inside she could hear only the muffled buzz of the city outside— because of the war, there were far fewer cars on the road than usual; the sounding of a horn was a rarity. The warm, sweet air inside the office pressed soporifically down on her like a quilt. Though she was vaguely aware that something was about to happen, her heavy head was telling her that it must all be a dream.

Does it get better?" Harrison asks tautly. "Do you … miss him as much as you did when he was first …?" "Yes," Severus swallows hard. The loss of Regulus is just as Harrison described, a gaping hole inside of him that can never be filled. Yet the hole is not the same as it was thirteen years ago. "As much but not identically." "I don't understand," Harrison frowns. "You will," Severus says. "Facts are not changed by time. People die. We mourn. They are still dead." Eileen. Tobias. Lily. Regulus. All dead. All always, always dead. "Still dead," Harrison murmurs softly. Then his eyes fix on Severus. "Last question?" "Proceed." "How do …" Harrison swallows. "How do you survive?" I do not fucking know. Yet here he is, alive. Surviving. With a child who also, miraculously, still persists in living. "The world … changes," Severus looks down at the Prince ring and thinks of Eileen. Princes survive, Sev. That is our gift. "It … continues to turn. We continue to exist. The mere fact of surviving enables survival.

Destiny is like a boulder. Bulky and hard to move. Its easier to leave it alone than to try to change it. But that never kept anyone from trying. Trust me, I'm a professional.

Bless the brave and courageous. We honor those that sacrificed their lives. Let us affirm now that in our future, such courage can be utilized to changing our world for the better and not for war. Thanking all the servicemen, women and K-9 that have given the ultimate sacrifice for your country.

Like life, the ocean holds chance and change, grief and terror and beauty. It promises mortality, not peace.

他現在知道精神與物質的界限不能分得這麼清。言語究竟沒有用。久久的握著手，就是較妥帖的安慰，因為會說話的人很少，真正有話說的人還要少。

When you meet the one among the millions, when amid millions of years, across the borderless wastes of time, you happen to catch him or her, neither a step too early nor a step too late, what else is there to do except to ask softly: "So you're here, too?

When you meet the one among the millions, when amid millions of years, across the borderless wastes of time, you happen to catch him or her, neither a step too early nor a step too late, what else is there to do except to ask softly: 'So you're here, too?

When you meet the one among the millions, when amid millions of years, across the borderless wastes of time, you happen to catch him or her, neither a step too early nor a step too late, what else is there to do except to ask softly: So you're here, too?

If she decides not to read a novel for a second time because she already knows the story, she'll never make a good wife. If all she cares about is novelty and has no interest in style or substance, once she's surveyed her husband's character and come to understand his weaknesses and peculiarities, she'll begin to find him oppressively dreary and fall out of love with him forever.

And its wonder lies in brevity: by the time you start reading, it's already over, which only makes you ponder its meaning all the more.

 “Set your sights high, the higher the better. Expect the most wonderful things to happen, not in the future but right now. Realize that nothing is too good. Allow absolutely nothing to hamper you or hold you up in any way.” Eileen Caddy

But that (My brother's first science fair) project changed my life.

And she had understood. Her face was perfectly calm, but he could see that she was very, very happy. The world was suddenly bathed in light that made everything transparent, all of it real and precise. Never had he felt so clear-minded. It was like sitting down at an exam, and seeing right away that he knew every answer—he was that excited and, at the same time, strangely calm.

She’d seen it clearly all along. It was as she said: they couldn’t go back. Now he understood why he’d felt trapped in a daze today. He’d been fighting against time. Their last parting had been so sudden, so unexpected, they’d not had a chance to say goodbye. When they walked out of this room today, they’d be saying goodbye forever. It was completely clear, like death.

said that we may change our difficulties in Christian work but we can never escape them.

It’s just that I keep turning anything I see, anything I hear, into a reason to think of you.

Shijun, I want you to know there’s someone in this world who’s yours always. Please know that, forever and wherever. Yours, always.

Love is not passion, perhaps. Not yearning either, but the experience of time, the part of life that accumulates over the months and years.

Her hands felt cold, but she was somehow warmed by the sound of a familiar voice.

我要你知道，在这个世界上，总有一个人是会永远等着你的。无论什么时候，无论在什么地方，总会有这么一个人

Sorrow released a person from common constraints, and in their grief they could be their true, bald selves. If others chose to witness that, to truly see others, well, it changed everything.

The health of our environment should be a non partisan issue. If we remain divided, it will not be effectively addressed.

The times are rushing ahead. This has already caused damage, and there is still more destruction to come. One day, human civilization... will be a thing of the past.

The dim lamp, lit halfway, felt like a train car traveling from one strange place to another. On the train you meet a woman quite by accident, a woman who could be a friend.

Eileen wanted her daughter to shrink herself to fit into the space the world allotted, instead of fighting to change the systems and institutions that wanted women to keep themselves small.

He had no desire to discuss Manzhen with anyone: talking about it would only miss the point, like scratching a shoe to get at an itchy spot underneath the leather.

Perhaps they’re developing a new way of seeing the world and interacting with others. Perhaps they’re learning some hard truths about themselves. Often this involves a value change.

Life was like the Bible, translated from Hebrew to Greek, from Greek to Latin, from Latin to English, from English to Mandarin Chinese.

In this world, there are more good people than real people.

I watch people change while I painstakingly stay the same

谁不憎厌他们自己待亏了的人？

Between memory and reality there are awkward discrepancies...” ​— ​Eileen Chang

Esther tilted her head, debating whether or not to give him the dietary laws she had followed all of her life. He would wonder about her background if she said too much. Could she word the request in such a way so as not to draw attention? "I can tell you want to say something." He quirked a brow. "It is only... I am used to a minimal diet where I come from. We ate from the garden and ate many lentils and nuts and raisins and dates. And bread, of course." She searched his face. "We rarely ate meat- sometimes goat or lamb- but in the city we could not keep flocks or herds or afford to purchase much from the butchers." "Well, you can have your fill of meat here," he said, smiling. "There is no lack of what the king has to offer." Esther hesitated and swallowed, then took a chance in spite of the warnings in her head to remain silent. "I simply fear that too drastic a change in my diet might make me ill. It is not that I am ungrateful for whatever the king has to offer." Hegai regarded her. "I hadn't considered that, but you are wise to think of it. I will make sure your diet consists only of things you are used to. It will not bode well for me if you became ill." "Thank you, my lord." She bowed her head. He cleared his throat. "It is just Hegai. I am simply a eunuch, not a lord or nobleman." "Thank you, Hegai." She bowed her head again. "I appreciate all you have done for me." "It is my pleasure.

Pray but then take action to stop the climate crisis that is fueling the drought causing these fires. Support the elected officials that will actually do something about it.

With the stakes as high as they are, I can no longer separate my professional voice with my activism. Our voices are desperately needed to create change.

With the stakes as high as they are, I don't separate my professional voice with my activism. Our voices are desperately needed to create change.

Tears fell in drops as though she were standing in a storm, her heart burning within her. Oh, Adonai. Do You even listen to my prayers? I ask and I ask and beg and I plead, and nothing changes.

She’d asked him, back then, when he’d first started liking her. “The moment I first saw you,” he’d replied, of course. His feelings were running so high then, he’d have believed anything. He was certain he was not lying. But in fact, the moment when he first saw her was not all that clear in his mind.

What?” EiLeen flinched. “I am not cute.