Memoirs of a Geisha is one of my favourite movies to watch, and I’ve watched it countless of times.
I’ve never been a fan of Michelle Yeoh or Zhang Ziyi, but I grew to like them after seeing this.
At the temple, there is a poem called “Loss” carved into the stone. It has three words, but the poet has scratched them out. You cannot read Loss, only feel it.
Water is powerful. It can wash away earth, put out fire, and even destroy iron.
She paints her face to hide her face. Her eyes are deep water. It is not for Geisha to want. It is not for geisha to feel. Geisha is an artist of the floating world. She dances, she sings. She entertains you, whatever you want. The rest is shadows, the rest is secret.
We must not expect happiness, Sayuri. It is not something we deserve. When life goes well, it is a sudden gift; it cannot last forever…
I could be her. Were we so different? She loved once. She hoped once. I could be her.
The heart dies a slow death, shedding each hope like leaves. Until one day there are none.
You cannot say to the sun, “More sun.” Or to the rain, “Less rain.” To a man, geisha can only be half a wife. We are the wives of nightfall.
⠁⠃ 
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