Lu (novel) Quotes

Until the day we meet again I will hold you in my heart and protect you there, grieving what we never had, cherishing what we did.

... nada está determinado, embora esteja previsto... O acaso não precisa acontecer sempre por acaso...” (Equinócio - pág.117)

He tells you to play, so you play. He tells you to curtsy, so you curtsy. He tells you what you are meant to do and what you are meant not to do, so you do and you do not. He tells you not to be angry, so you smile, you turn your eyes down, you are quiet and do exactly as he says in the hopes that this is what he wants, then one night you realise that you have given him so much of yourself that you are nothing but the curtsy and the smile and the quiet. That you are nothing.

I was very fond of strange stories when I was a child. In my village-school days, I used to buy stealthily popular novels and historical recitals. Fearing that my father and my teacher might punish me for this and rob me of these treasures, I carefully hid them in secret places where I could enjoy them unmolested. As I grew older, my love for strange stories became even stronger, and I learned of things stranger than what I had read in my childhood. When I was in my thirties, my memory was full of these stories accumulated through years of eager seeking. l have always admired such writers of the T'ang Dynasty as Tuan Ch'eng-shih [author of the Yu-yang tsa-tsu] and Niu Sheng [author of the Hsuan-kuai lu]. Who wrote short stories so excellent in portrayal of men and description of things. I often had the ambition to write a book (of stories) which might be compared with theirs. But I was too lazy to write, and as my laziness persisted, I gradually forgot most of the stories which I had learned. Now only these few stories, less than a score, have survived and have so successfully battled against my laziness that they are at last written down. Hence this Book of Monsters. I have sometimes laughingly said to myself that it is not I who have found these ghosts and monsters, but they, the monstrosities themselves, which have found me! ... Although my book is called a book or monsters, it is not confined to them: it also records the strange things of the human world and sometimes conveys a little bit of moral lesson.

Orang selalu berharap kau melanjutkan hidup secepatnya setelah mengalami kehilangan. Selama beberapa bulan pertama, simpati mencurahimu. Kemudian, pelan-pelan, berkurang, dan suatu hari kau mendapati dirimu sendiri berdiri sendirian di makam, bertanya-tanya kenapa orang lain sudah beralih memedulikan sesuatu yang lain sementara kau masih tetap di sini, tanpa suara masih membawa kesedihan yang sama. Orang jadi bosan dengan dukacitamu. Mereka menginginkan topik baru untuk dibicarakan. Jadi, kau berhenti mengungkitnya karena tidak mau membuat bosan siapa pun.

The new person slung an arm over Lu Liu’s shoulder. “This humble one has something to ask.” “Please do.” “What year is it?

Me? Sarcastic?" Alfred sniffed, the barest hint of a smile appearing on his lips. "It's as if you think I'm British.

His only blemish was the frown he constantly wore on his face. His lips rarely held a smile. If only he knew how beautiful his smile was and how it made her heart beat.

As modern readers of masterpieces like The Plum in the Golden Vase and The Story of the Stone know, some degree of “unfinishedness” was to be expected, and perhaps desired, even in novels of undeniable craft and artistry by tremendously sophisticated authors. Vernacular novels were intentionally circulated not as finished products, but with room for readers, as well as editors and commentators, to contribute their own thoughts.