Best 8 quotes of Camy Tang on MyQuotes

Aiden didn't say anything. He reached out a hand to trace a nail biting into his flesh. "Christ's pain should always be my pain. I should never forget. I never want to. I want to keep reaching out to other people in pain." He sighed. "It doesn't always work that way. I fail more than I succeed." "Why try?" "Because I can't afford to. Look at Him." He stretched out his hands as if beseeching the picture. "He wouldn't give up.

As Lex pierced a wonton with her fork, its bubbled surface flaked pastry onto the stainless steel tines. She brought it to her mouth. The outer shell crunched against her teeth while the satiny, cheesy filling melted on her tongue. A ribbon of sweetness from the fresh crab lingered in her mouth.

A steaming plate appeared in front of Lex- the crab wontons, nestled in a lettuce leaf. Blond deep-fried dumplings. Maybe she'd walk out without braining George... Another waiter swept past their table holding two platters of Crustaceans' signature entree. Rich, briny crab. Nutty brown butter.

For the first time, Lex caught a glimmer of the hand of God in all the crazy turns her life had taken lately. She hadn't been talking to God much, but He'd still been orchestrating things. It gave her a weird feeling- both comforted at being taken care of, but also antsy that she hadn't been as independent and in control as she thought she was.

Mariko had given her notorious sweet tooth full rein. Lex stared at the table of food and could already feel the sugar eating cavities into her enamel. Banana nut bread, sesame-crusted Chinese doughnuts, almond cookies, fruit cocktail and almond custard, steamed egg cake, even honey walnut prawns. On the non-Asian side was rum cake, blueberry pecan muffins, strawberry almond rolls, and croissants.

She removed the salad plates and presented the garlic roasted crab with a flourish. Hot, pungent aromas steamed Lex's face as she leaned over the plate for a long, ecstatic breath. An exotic mix of spices melded with the warm richness of browned butter. Only a whiff of brine. The shells had a warm, healthy sunset color. Her mouth watered. She lifted the top shell and inhaled a sweet tang of the sea.

The kids had already mangled the fruit plate, but the sashimi- fresh raw tuna- fanned out in cool pink glory next to makizushi sushi rolls. Marinated mochiko chicken still steamed, crispy fresh from the deep fryer, and Grandma's homemade pickled vegetables- takuwan and tsukemono- lay in small dishes next to it. "Oooh, one of the aunties made shrimp tempura." Trish piled hand-battered, deep-fried shrimp on a paper plate.

When has faith ever been about feelings?