A Mouse Who Wishes To Fool The

As An American Man Of The 1990s Writing About A Japanese Woman Of The 1930s, I Needed To Cross Three Cultural Divides - Man To Woman, American To Japanese, And Present To Past.

I Tried To Continue, But Somehow My Throat Made Up Its Mind To Swallow – Though I Can’t Think What I Was Swallowing, Unless It Was A Little Knot Of Emotion I Pushed Back Down Because There Was No Room In My Face For Any More.

By The Time We Arrived, As Evening Was Approaching, I Felt As Sore As A Rock Must Feel When The Waterfall Has Pounded On It All Day Long.

Grief Is A Most Peculiar Thing; We’re So Helpless In The Face Of It. It’s Like A Window That Will Simply Open Of Its Own Accord. The Room Grows Cold, And We Can Do Nothing But Shiver. But It Opens A Little Less Each Time, And A Little Less; And One Day We Wonder What Has Become Of It.

Hopes Are Like Hair Ornaments. Girls Want To Wear Too Many Of Them. When They Become Old Women They Look Silly Wearing Even One.