Min Ho Quotes

Tidak peduli kita tidak punya kesamaan darah, DNA, fisik, sifat, atau apapun itu, aku sudah menganggapmu adik semenjak kita bertemu. Dan kau tetap akan jadi adikku sampai kapanpun. Aku adalah hyeong-mu dan kau adalah dongsaeng-ku. Tidak akan ada yang berubah. (Jang Min Ho)

If you don't give up your hopes and dreams, then there will be a good ending,

The next minute, we were are all looking out onto the sea and shouting our dreams. HoSeok covered his ears with both hands and opened his mouth wide. He seemed to be competing with the drilling sound, but it was inaudible. It was the same for TaeHyung, JiMin, and NamJoon. Each of us cried out a story that would never reach any destination.

Ho, mia Dio! Oni povus enfermi min en ŝelon de nukso kaj mi rigardus min kiel reĝon de vastegaj spacoj, se nur miaj malbonaj sonĝoj min ne turmentus.

What had I intuited at last? Namely this: while nothing is more precious than independence and freedom, nothing is also more precious than independence and freedom! These two slogans are almost the same, but not quite. The first inspiring slogan was Ho Chi Min’s empty suit, which he no longer wore. How could he? He was dead. The second slogan was the tricky one, the joke. It was Uncle Ho’s empty suit turned inside out, a sartorial sensation that only a man of two minds, or a man with no face, dared to wear. This odd suit suited me, for it was of a cutting-edge cut. Wearing this inside-out suit, my seams exposed in an unseemly way, I understood, at last, how our revolution had gone from being the vanguard of political change to the rearguard hoarding power. In this transformation, we were not unusual. Hadn’t the French and the Americans done exactly the same? Once revolutionaries themselves, they had become imperialists, colonizing and occupying our defiant little land, taking away our freedom in the name of saving us. Our revolution took considerably longer than theirs, and was considerably bloodier, but we made up for lost time. When it came to learning the worst habits of our French masters and their American replacements, we quickly proved ourselves the best. We, too, could abuse grand ideals! Having liberated ourselves in the name of independence and freedom—I was so tired of saying these words!—we then deprived our defeated brethren of the same.

Ho jeg har visst alt faat Vaaren i mig, jeg bruker min Qvind som en gale, Fan steike mig, og æter langt bedre end på længe!(1912, brev til J.M. Køhler Olsen i Bergen)

Prometheus, by Kai Bird and Martin J. Sherwin, 2005 Kai Bird and Martin J. Sherwin. Used by permission of Alfred A. Knopf, a division of Random House, Inc.; Unequal Childhoods: Class, Race, and Family Life, by Annette Lareau, copyright 2003 Regents of the University of California. Published by the University of California Press; “Intercultural Communication in Cognitive Values: Americans and Koreans, by Ho-min Sohn, University of Hawaii Press, 1983; The Happiest Man: The Life of Louis Borgenicht (New York: G. P. Putnam’s

If I have to kneel, I’ll kneel. But I can get up again. If I keep getting up myself, a day will come when I wouldn’t have to kneel down anymore.

In the end, Min Soo compromised. She gave her son an American name followed by a Korean personal name followed by the family name. She named him Charles Jae Won Bae. She named her second son Daniel Jae Ho Bae. In the end, she chose both. Korean and American. American and Korean. So they would know where they were from. So they would know where they were going.

Names are powerful things. They act as an identity marker and a kind of map, locating you in time and geography. More than that, they can be a compass. In the end, Min Soo compromised. She gave her son an American name followed by a Korean personal name followed by the family name. She named him Charles Jae Won Bae. She named her second son Daniel Jae Ho Bae. In the end, she chose both. Korean and American. American and Korean. So they would know where they were from. So they would know where they were going.

사랑 하 고 사랑 양쪽에서 태양을 느낄 것입니다.

사랑에 대 한 중력을 비난할 수 없습니다.

저희가 항상와 나 서로 미소, 미소는 사랑의 시작.

사랑은 다른 사람의 행복은 자신 보다 더 중요 한 때 이다. 에 읽기:

사랑을 찾을 것이 아닙니다. 사랑은 당신을 발견 하는 것 이다.

때로는 심장이 본다 어떤 눈에 보이지 않습니다.

Sixty thousand yuan – a fortune representing ten years’ wages at the restaurant – and a week’s imprisonment with the threat of rape, and all I’d achieved was a three-minute reunion with Min-ho.

Twenty-nine years old, You Sulhee Nursing Academy, nurse’s aide, bartender, Min Gyu-ho.

Finst tilgiving mellom menneske i rein form? Ho finst kan hende i teorien, som ein idé, noko å lengte etter, fantasere om, men som realitet? Gjort er gjort, og einkvan må ta ansvar for hendinga og følgjene. Eg tek gjerne ansvar, men å tilgi eit svik heilt utan vilkår og forventing? Den gåva vil eg ikkje gi deg, seier eg ikkje til bakhovudet på far min. I tenåra ville eg ha tid med deg, nokre gylne augneblikk der vi samtala om noko viktig, krangla om noko endå viktigare og gjorde noko fint saman som kunne hjelpe meg med å byggje meg sjølv opp att der eg plutseleg stod, morlaus og i praksis familielaus. Du sa nei. No må eg barrikadere meg mot nye nei. Tilgiving kan ein gi nokon som skumpar ut ølglaset sitt på ein konsert eller bulkar bilen eins eller noko.

Quan­do in­fi­ne re­cu­pe­rò il fia­to fece usci­re tut­ti per par­la­re da solo col suo me­di­co. «Non mi im­ma­gi­na­vo che que­sta stron­za­ta fos­se così gra­ve da far pen­sa­re all'olio san­to» gli dis­se. «Io, che non ho la gio­ia di cre­de­re nel­la vita dell'al­tro mon­do.» «Non si trat­ta di que­sto» dis­se Ré­vé­rend. «E' noto che si­ste­ma­re le fac­cen­de del­la co­scien­za in­fon­de all'am­ma­la­to uno sta­to d'ani­mo che fa­ci­li­ta mol­to l'in­com­ben­za del me­di­co.» Il ge­ne­ra­le non pre­stò at­ten­zio­ne alla mae­stria del­la ri­spo­sta, per­ché lo fece rab­bri­vi­di­re la ri­ve­la­zio­ne ac­ce­can­te che la fol­le cor­sa fra i suoi mali e i suoi so­gni ar­ri­va­va in quel mo­men­to alla meta fi­na­le. Il re­sto era­no te­ne­bre. «Caz­zo» so­spi­rò. «Come farò a usci­re da que­sto la­bi­rin­to?» Esa­mi­nò il lo­ca­le con la chia­ro­veg­gen­za del­le sue in­son­nie, e per la pri­ma vol­ta vide la ve­ri­tà: l'ul­ti­mo let­to pre­sta­to, la toe­let­ta di pie­tà il cui fo­sco spec­chio di pa­zien­za non l'avreb­be più ri­pe­tu­to, il ba­ci­le di por­cel­la­na scro­sta­ta con l'ac­qua e l'asciu­ga­ma­no e il sa­po­ne per al­tre mani, la fret­ta sen­za cuo­re dell'oro­lo­gio ot­ta­go­na­le sfre­na­to ver­so l'ap­pun­ta­men­to ine­lut­ta­bi­le del 17 di­cem­bre all'una e set­te mi­nu­ti del suo po­me­rig­gio ul­ti­mo. Al­lo­ra in­cro­ciò le brac­cia sul pet­to e co­min­ciò a udi­re le voci rag­gian­ti de­gli schia­vi che can­ta­va­no il sal­ve del­le sei nei fran­toi, e vide dal­la fi­ne­stra il dia­man­te di Ve­ne­re nel cie­lo che se ne an­da­va per sem­pre, le nevi eter­ne, il ram­pi­can­te le cui nuo­ve cam­pa­nu­le gial­le non avreb­be vi­sto fio­ri­re il sa­ba­to suc­ces­si­vo nel­la casa sbar­ra­ta dal lut­to, gli ul­ti­mi ful­go­ri del­la vita che mai più, per i se­co­li dei se­co­li, si sa­reb­be ri­pe­tu­ta.