Thanhha Lai Quotes

Oh, my daughter, at times you have to fight, but preferably not with your fists.

Mother says, People share when they know they have escaped hunger. Shouldn't people share because there is hunger?

This year I hope I truly learn to fly-kick not to kick anyone so much as to fly.

Whoever invented English should have learned to spell.

Would be simpler if English and life were logical

People living on others' goodwill cannot afford political opinions.

Mother tells me, They tease you because they adore you.

How can we scramble away like rats, without honor, without dignity, when everyone must help rebuild the country?

Mother warns how we act today foretells the whole year

Paperwork, paperwork with a woman who pats my head while shaking her own. I step back, hating pity, having learned from Mother that the pity giver feels better, never the pity receiver.

Why no s for two deer, but an s for two monkeys? Brother Quang says no one knows. So much for rules! Whoever invented English should be bitten by a snake.

Our lives will twist and twist, intermingling the old and the new until it doesn't matter which is which.

Everyone knows the ship could sink, unable to hold the piles of bodies that keep crawling on like raging ants from a disrupted nest. But no one is heartless enough to say stop because what if they had been stopped before their turn?

I step back, hating pity, having learned from Mother that the pity giver feels better, never the pity receiver.

I hate being told I can't do something because I'm a girl!

No, Mr. Johnston doesn't have a horse, nor has he ever ridden one. What kind of a cowboy is he?

Being stubborn won't make you fluent. Practicing will! The more mistakes you make, the more you'll learn not to.

She was promised to Father at five. They married at sixteen, earlier than expected. Everyone’s future changed upon learning the name H Chí Minh.

No one would believe me but at times I would choose wartime in Saigon over peacetime in Alabama."-Inside Out and Back Again

My curse: rebellious in my head but oh-so-lovely in real life.

I’m practicing to be seen.

We glide and I feel as if I'm floating.

Black seeds spill like clusters of eyes, wet and crying.

Mostly, I wish I were still smart.

best

Should 'sleep' be plural? No, sleep is an idea, like love, no s. So many decisions in a single simple sentence. Exhausting, this elaborate dance of words.

I tell you of loss, my child, so you will listen, slowly, and know that in life every emotion is fated to rear itself within your being. Don't judge it proper or ugly. It's simply there and yours. When you should happen to cry, then cry, knowing that just as easily you will laugh again and cry again. Your feelings will enter the currents of your core and there they shall remain

Life is easy and hard, beautiful and ugly.

I can't make my brothers go live elsehwere, but I can hide their sandals.

Oh, my daughter, at times you have to fight, but preferably not with your fists.

Mostly I wish I were still smart.

Whoever invented English should have learned to spell.

Why does one human being have too much and another human being cling to life in desperation?

People share when they know they have escaped hunger. Shouldn’t people share because there is hunger?

...every language has annoyances and illogical rules, as well as sensible beauty.

Some verbs switch all over just because. I am She is They are He was They were Would be simpler if English and live were logical.

When you should happen to cry, then cry, knowing that just as easily you will laugh again and cry again. Your feelings will enter the currents of your core and there they shall remain.” I

I tell you of loss, my child, so you will listen, slowly, and know that in life every emotion is fated to rear itself within your being. Don’t judge it proper or ugly. It’s simply there and yours.

MiSSS SScott points to the numbers along the wall. I count up to twenty. The class claps on its own. I’m furious, unable to explain I already learned fractions and how to purify water. So this is what dumb feels like. I hate, hate, hate it.

At first the weight of loss was thrust upon me so harshly I could only take a short breath, just enough to endure the next few seconds, only to find I must inhale again. Every person in turmoil thinks the boulder on her chest will never lift. Yet the same boulder awakens an equally strong urge to live.

I wish our cowboy could be persuaded to buy a horse, that I could be invisible until I can talk back

All day I practice squeezing hisses through my teeth. Whoever invented English must have loved snakes.

The gray guilt had grown heavy, refusing to pause its relentless infusion into her joints and marrow. After all, it was her fault her brother was taken.

People living on others' goodwill cannot afford political opinion.

all indulgent emotions have long remained on pause. She has yet to mourn her father or mother. Not until she finds her brother. She stared at her uncle and repeated Bà’s wish.

I’m practicing to be seen.

Fate did not grant him the privilege to see our children reach adulthood or the pleasure to witness our wrinkles writing stories on our faces, but in the time we were allowed, we knew our treasures.

We pretend the monsoon has come early. In the distance bombs explode like thunder, slashes lighten the sky, gunfire falls like rain. Distant yet within ears, within eyes. Not that far away after all.

I'm trying to tell MiSSSisss WaSShington about our ceremony for Father. But it takes time to match every noun and verb, sort all the tenses, remember all the articles, set the tone for every s. MiSSSisss WaSShington says if every learner waits to speak perfectly, no one would learn a new language. Being stubborn won't make you fluent. Practicing will! The more mistakes you make, the more you'll learn not to. They laugh.

I need the lessons. I’m hiding in class by staring at my shoes. I’m hiding during lunch in the bathroom, eating hard rolls saved from dinner. I’m hiding during outside time in the same bathroom. I’m hiding after school until Brother Khôi rides up to our secret corner. With Vu Lee I squat in weight on legs, back straight arms at my sides, fingers relaxed, eyes everywhere at once I’m practicing to be seen.

Do not waste....Don't waste the vegetable-washing water, splash it on the grapefruit tree instead....Don't waste anything made of glass or plastic because glass and plastic can be reused ad nauseam....Don't waste...a string for retying, a rubber band for conquering dry noodles or hair, rice bags for dishcloths, fish bones for fertilizer....Anything that comes out of the earth must be returned to the earth...."If everyone uses more than their share, how can the earth support us?"

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Whoever invented English should be bitten by a snake.

Can I hit them? Oh, my daughter, at times you have to fight, but preferably not with your fists

I tell you of my loss, child, so you will listen, slowly, and know that in life every emotion is fated to rear itself within your being. Don't judge it proper or ugly. It's simply there and yours.

Hong Kong,

I squatted low and sturdy then.

They laugh. Shame on them! Challenge them to say something in Vietnamese and laugh right back

The Unwanted by Kien Nguyen Inside Out & Back Again by Thanhha Lai It’s a Living: Work and Life in Vietnam Today edited by Gerard Sasges Mai’s America, a documentary by Marlo Poras These

I also hope after you finish this book that you sit close to someone you love and implore that person to tell and tell and tell their story.

People living on others’ goodwill cannot afford political opinions.

Father would appear in my class speaking beautiful English as he does French and Chinese and hold out his hand for mine.

I understand every word, but again what is he talking about? The detective calls us. The guard pats my hand and smiles in a hesitant, regretful way that conveys the world doesn't make more sense just because you get older.

Mother says, People share when they know they have escaped hunger.

I’m afraid to look at MiSSSisss WaSShington. You hate me?

I hate everyone!!!!

Y'all have a song?' H nods. 'Bất-tơ-phơ-lai de-lồ.' 'Butterfly yellow? You mean yellow butterfly.' H starts to explain but pulls out her notebook. The most prepared notetaker on earth. Bướm = butterfly, vàng = yellow.

No one can sweep, for why sweep away hope? No one can splash water, for why splash away joy? (celebration of Tet)

One cannot justify war unless each side flaunts its own blind conviction.

In the distance bombs explode like thunder, slashes lighten the sky, gunfire falls like rain

South Vietnam no longer exists. One woman tries to throw herself overboard, screaming that without a country she cannot live.

Then by chance Mother learns sponsors prefer those whose applications say, "Christians." Just like that Mother amends our faith, saying all beliefs are pretty much the same.

People living on other's goodwill cannot afford political opinions.

The pity giver feels better, never the pity receiver.

Misss Scott shows the class photographs of a burned, naked girl running, crying down a dirt road of people climbing, screaming. desperate to get on the last helicopter out of Saigon of skeletal refugees, crammed aboard a sinking fishing boat, reaching up to the heavens for help of mounds of combat boots abandoned by soldiers of the loosing side. She's telling the class Where I'm from. She should have shown something about papayas and Tet. No one would believe me but at times I would choose wartime in Saigon over peacetime in Alabama.

I thought I would love seeing him in pain. But he looks more defeated than weak, more helpless than scared, like a caged puppy

Mother says if the price of eggs were not the price of rice, and the price of rice were not the price of gasoline, and the price of gasoline were not the price of gold, them of course Brother Khoi could continue hatching eggs.

At this point, Mother closes her eyes, eyes that resemble no one else's, sunken and deep like Westerners' yet almond-shaped like ours. I always wish for her eyes, but Mother says no. Eyes like hers can't help by carry sadness; even as a child her parents were alarmed by the weight in her eyes.

Mother wants to sell the amethyst ring Father brought back from America, where he trained in the navy before I was born. She wants to buy needles and thread, fabric and sandals from the camp's black market. I have never seen her without this purple rock. I can't fall asleep unless I twist the ring and count circles. Brother Quang says, NO! What's the point of new shirts and sandals if you lose the last tangible remnant of love? I don't understand what he said but I agree.

Then by chance Mother learns sponsors prefer those whose application say "Christians." Just like that Mother amends our faith, saying all beliefs are pretty much the same.

I step back, hating pity, having learned from Mother that the pity giver feels better, never the pity receiver.

Whoever invented English must have loved snakes.

I repeat, Há, and wish I knew enough English to tell her to listen for the diacritical mark, this one directing the tone downward.