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The truth is, there is no line. There's only your life, how you mess it up, and who is there to save you. Or who isn't.

I really, really love China. To be honest, the food is so amazing! When I first went to Beijing and Shanghai, I actually became obsessed with soup dumplings, and would stand in lines and get them on the street. It was something that I became obsessed with and when I came back to the States, I did all this research for the best soup dumplings in the Los Angeles area and in the New York area and it was amazing to find those Asian dishes that were authentic and I can enjoy them at home.
In the camp, this meant committing my verse-many thousands of lines-to memory. To help me with this I improvised decimal counting beads and, in transit prisons, broke up matchsticks and used the fragments as tallies. As I approached the end of my sentences I grew more confident of my powers of memory, and began writing down and memorizing prose-dialogue at first, but then, bit by bit, whole densely written passages. My memory found room for them! It worked. But more and more of my time-in the end as much as one week every month-went into the regular repetition of all I had memorized.

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