Mercy

“When reading her stories in translation it’s like trying to see her from a great distance. Or through a thick pane of glass. I am standing outside, peering into rooms where her ghost has been.”
― Nina Mingya Powles, Magnolia, 木蘭

“I want to know the names of the trees in all other languages too so that I find out what they taste like to other people. But my mouth can only hold so much.”
― Nina Mingya Powles, Magnolia, 木蘭

“Sometimes I think the War is harder on parents than on soldiers," said Pritchard.
Gaunt could tell he was lying, but Gaunt would have lied too, if he had thought of it. Instead, all he could think of was No Man's Land at night, when the star shells lit it up, and it seemed to contain the world. The steak and champagne disgusted him. The fine china and silverware were sticky with something intangible, something fouler than the mud of the trenches. Next to him, Pritchard dropped his fork with a clatter. Gaunt still knew the names of all the men in his company. Where would they see tonight? How many were left alive ?”
― Alice Winn, In Memoriam

“Drift,” she mouths softly in English, “what is drift?” My mother translates into her language, not one of mine. I try to make myself remember by writing 婆 over and over on squares of paper covering the walls so I am surrounded by the women and the water radicals they hold close. The tips of waves touch me in my sleep.”
― Nina Mingya Powles, Magnolia, 木蘭