“When I couldn't sleep, I would just stare at those devastated rice fields and weep. Sometimes, I considered suicide. As if by coincidence, I had to walk past the old well at the gate to the temple five or six times a day. The water was so clear. It was as if it were beckoning to me. I would stare at my reflection and tell myself, iI could end my suffering. But it would be too cowardly. They'll just come and laugh on my own grave. I've got to survive. To see their undoing and to win this chess game with heaven.”