There Is No Life Without Death. That

I Love Research. I'd Go So Far As To Say I'm A Research Fanatic.

I Know A Lot About Women And Their Suffering, But I Still Know Almost Nothing About Men.

I Wonder If There Was Anything I Would Have Done Differently. I Hope I Would Have Done Everything Differently, Except I Know Everything Would Have Turned Out The Same. That's The Meaning Of Fate.

Parents Die, Daughters Grow Up And Marry Out, But Sisters Are For Life.

Mama Used To Tell Us A Story About A Cicada Sitting High In A Tree. It Chirps And Drinks In Dew, Oblivious To The Praying Mantis Behind It. The Mantis Arches Up Its Front Leg To Stab The Cicada, But It Doesn't Know An Oriole Perches Behind It. The Bird Stretches Out Its Neck To Snap Up The Mantis For A Midday Meal, But Its Unaware Of The Boy Who's Come Into The Garden With A Net. Three Creatures—the Cicada, The Mantis And The Oriole—all Coveted Gains Without Being Aware Of The Greater And Inescapable Danger That Was Coming.