

“I think we ought to read only the kind of books that wound or stab us. If the book we're reading doesn't wake us up with a blow to the head, what are we reading for? So that it will make us happy, as you write? Good Lord, we would be happy precisely if we had no books, and the kind of books that make us happy are the kind we could write ourselves if we had to. But we need books that affect us like a disaster, that grieve us deeply, like the death of someone we loved more than ourselves, like being banished into forests far from everyone, like a suicide. A book must be the axe for the frozen sea within us. That is my belief.”
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“We still spoke Korean at home, but on the streets we always had to speak Japanese.”
― When My Name Was Keoko
― When My Name Was Keoko

“I am constantly trying to communicate something incommunicable, to explain something inexplicable, to tell about something I only feel in my bones and which can only be experienced in those bones. Basically it is nothing other than this fear we have so often talked about, but fear spread to everything, fear of the greatest as of the smallest, fear, paralyzing fear of pronouncing a word, although this fear may not only be fear but also a longing for something greater than all that is fearful.”
― Letters to Milena
― Letters to Milena

“I don’t feel like playing anymore—all because of that stupid announcement. “Express your gratitude,” they’d said.
What they take: our rice, our language, our names. What they give: little rubber balls.
I can’t feel grateful about such a bad deal.”
― When My Name Was Keoko
What they take: our rice, our language, our names. What they give: little rubber balls.
I can’t feel grateful about such a bad deal.”
― When My Name Was Keoko
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