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“It would be an account of love and duty, not just anger and hatred, and it would be filled with dreams, and the memory of having once looked to the future, and an eagerness to dream again. It would be boring, because you simply had to be there. It would be poetry and not history. ...the deep ambivalence you once felt toward a song that now devastated you...the look when someone recognizes you. I'm going to write about all this one day, I told her, and she smiled at me.” — Hua Hsu
It would be an account of love and duty, not just anger and hatred, and it would be filled with dreams, and the memory of having once looked to the future, and an eagerness to dream again. It would be boring, because you simply had to be there. It would be poetry and not history.
...the deep ambivalence you once felt toward a song that now devastated you...the look when someone recognizes you.
I'm going to write about all this one day, I told her, and she smiled at me.