"[Yun] had not yet gone to bed. She was bending her beautiful white neck before the bright candles, quite absorbed reading a book. I patted her on the shoulder and said, "Sister, why are you still working so hard? You must be quite tired with the full days we've had." Quickly Yun turned her head and stood up saying, "I was going to bed when I opened the book-case and saw this book and have not been able to leave it since. Now my sleepiness is all gone. I have heard of the name of Western Chamber for a long time, but today I see it for the first time. It is really the work of a genius, only I feel that its style is a little bit too biting." "Only geniuses can write a biting style," I smiled and said."

"The most important lyrical drama in the history of Chinese literature."

"'...if I do let you look, you must promise not to tell anyone. It's marvellous stuff. Once you start reading it, you'll even stop wanting to eat!' He handed the book to her, and Dai-yu put down her things and looked. The more she read, the more she liked it, and before very long she had read several acts. She felt the power of the words and their lingering fragrance. Long after she had finished reading, when she had laid down the book and was sitting there rapt and silent, the lines continued to ring on in her head. 'Well,' said Bao-yu, 'is it good?' Dai-yu smiled and nodded."

"Pao-yu began to feel restless and discontented. He did not know exactly what he wanted, but something was clamoring within him, undefined and yet insistent. Ming-yen sought to relieve his boredom, securing for his master some novels [...] and plays such as Record of the Western Chamber. To Pao-yu these were great discoveries. Ming-yen asked him not to take the books into the Takuanyuan, where they might be discovered and traced to him. But what use were the books if Pao-yu, who lived in the Takuanyuan, could not take them with him? So he selected a safe corner in his room and, when no one was around, he would take them out and pore over them. One day about the middle of the Third Moon, Pao-yu sat reading Record of the Western Chamber in a peach grove by the brook that wound its way through the Takuanyuan. As he reached the passage containing the line "petals falling into patterns of red," a gust of wind seemed to respond to the words and scattered the peach blossoms all around him, covering his lap and the book. He hesitated to shake them on the ground lest he trample on them. Instead, he carefully gathered them in the broad folds of his garment and shook them into the brook."

"The Western Wing is not a work written by an individual named Wang Shifu alone; if I read it carefully, it will also be a work of my own creation, because all the words in The Western Wing happen to be the words that I want to say and that I want to write down."

"我是个多愁多病身，怎当你倾国倾城貌。"

"兰闺深寂寞，无计度芳春。料得高吟者，应怜长叹人。"

"好句有情怜皓月，落花无语怨东风。"

"花落水流红，闲愁万种。"

"月色溶溶夜，花阴寂寂春。如何临皓魂，不见月中人。"

"愿天下有情的都成了眷属。"

"Fuck the Renaissance. And fuck literature and Plato and Michelangelo and Oscar Wilde and all the other shrunken violets you people line up. This is a school and it isn’t normal."

"Anasúyá: Oh! then we may breathe again; for, now I think of it, the King himself, at his departure, fastened on [S']akoontalá's finger, as a token of remembrance, a ring on which his own name was engraved. She has, therefore, a remedy for her misfortune at her own command."

"Karabhaka: Victory to the King! The Queen-mother bids me say that in four days from the present time she intends celebrating a solemn ceremony for the advancement and preservation of her son. She expects that your Majesty will honour her with your presence on that occasion."

"Priyamvadá: See, Anasúyá, there sits our dear friend, motionless as a statue, resting her face on her left hand, her whole mind absorbed in thinking of her absent husband. She can pay no attention to herself, much less to a stranger."

"King: Friend Máthavya, as you were my playfellow in childhood, the Queen has already received you like a second son; go you, then, back to her, and tell her of my solemn engagement to assist these holy men. You can supply my place in the ceremony, and act the part of a son to the Queen."

"Warder: Sire, the chariot is ready, and only waits to conduct you to victory. But here is a messenger named Karabhaka, just arrived from your capital, with a message from the Queen, your mother."

"Priyamvadá: My word must not be falsified; but, at the sight of the ring of recognition the spell shall cease.' So saying, he disappeared."

"Priyamvadá: Quick! quick! Anasúyá! come and assist in the joyful preparations for Shakoontalá's departure to her husband's palace....Listen, now, and I will tell you all about it. I went just now to Shakoontalá, to inquire whether she had slept comfortably—"

"Priyamvadá: Well, dear Anasúyá, I have done my best; but what living being could succeed in pacifying such a cross-grained, ill-tempered old fellow? However, I managed to mollify him a little."

"Two hermits: The inhabitants of the hermitage, having heard of your Majesty's sojourn in our neighbourhood, make this humble petition:In the absence of our Superior, the great sage Kanwa, evil demons are disturbing our sacrificial rites. Deign, therefore, accompanied by your charioteer, to take up your abode in our hermitage for a few days."

"Priyamvadá: When he refused to turn back, I implored his forgiveness in these words: 'Most venerable sage, pardon, I beseech you, this first offence of a young and inexperienced girl, who was ignorant of the respect due to your saintly character and exalted rank."

"King: Go first, reverend Sirs, I will follow you immediately."

"King: You must know, my good fellow, that I have been recognised by some of the inmates of the hermitage. Now I want the assistance of your fertile invention, in devising some excuse for going there again."

"Máthavya: Already I feel quite like a young prince."

"Anasúyá: And what did he reply?"

"Priyamvadá: She was sitting with her face bowed down to the very ground with shame, when Father Kanwa entered, and, embracing her, of his own accord offered her his congratulations. 'I give thee joy, my child,' he said, 'we have had an auspicious omen. The priest who offered the oblation dropped it into the very centre of the sacred fire, though thick smoke obstructed his vision. Henceforth thou wilt cease to be an object of compassion. This very day I purpose sending thee, under the charge of certain trusty hermits, to the King's palace; and shall deliver thee into the hands of thy husband, as I would commit knowledge to the keeping of a wise and faithful student."

"A Voice[Durvasa]: Woe to thee, maiden, for daring to slight a guest like me! Shall I stand here unwelcomed—even I, A very mine of penitential merit, Worthy of all respect? Shalt thou, rash maid, Thus set at nought the ever sacred ties Of hospitality? and fix thy thoughts Upon the cherished object of thy love, While I am present? Thus I curse thee, then— He, even he of whom thou thinkest, he Shall think no more of thee; nor in his heart Retain thine image. Vainly shalt thou strive To waken his remembrance of the past; He shall disown thee, even as the sot, Roused from his midnight drunkenness, denies The words he uttered in his revellings."

"Máthavya: Make haste, then, to her aid; you have no time to lose, if you don't wish this fruit of all the virtues to drop into the mouth of some greasy-headed rustic of devout habits."

"Priyamvadá: Alas! alas! I fear a terrible misfortune has occurred. [S']akoontalá, from absence of mind, must have offended some guest whom she was bound to treat with respect."

"King: Maidens brought up in a hermitage are naturally shy and reserved; but for all that She did look towards me, though she quick withdrew Her stealthy glances when she met my gaze; She smiled upon me sweetly, but disguised With maiden grace the secret of her smiles. Coy love was half unveiled; then, sudden checked By modesty, left half to be divined."

"King: I will describe her, my dear friend, in a few words, Man's all-wise Maker, wishing to create A faultless form, whose matchless symmetry Should far transcend Creation's choicest works, Did call together by his mighty will, And garner up in his eternal mind, A bright assemblage of all lovely things;And then, as in a picture, fashion them Into one perfect and ideal form— Such the divine, the wondrous prototype, Whence her fair shape was moulded into being."

"Priyamvadá: Surely, Shakoontalá is not absent from the cottage."

"Priyamvadá: Ah! yes; I see; and no less a person than the great sage Durvásas, who is known to be most irascible. He it is that has just cursed her, and is now retiring with hasty strides, trembling with passion, and looking as if nothing could turn him. His wrath is like a consuming fire."

"King: This is a giddy fellow, and in all probability he will let out the truth about my present pursuit to the women of the palace. What is to be done? I must say something to deceive him."

"King: Think you that a descendant of the mighty Puru could fix his affections on an unlawful object? Though, as men say, the offspring of the sage, The maiden to a nymph celestial owes Her being, and by her mother left on earth, Was found and nurtured by the holy man As his own daughter, in this hermitage. So, when dissevered from its parent stalk, Some falling blossom of the jasmine, wafted Upon the sturdy sun-flower, right|thumb|I will describe her, my dear friend, in a few words, Man's all-wise Maker, wishing to create A faultless form, whose matchless symmetry Should far transcend Creation's choicest works,... - w:Dushyanta|King Dushyanta"

"Anasúyá: From the first, it was always his fixed purpose to bestow the maiden on a husband worthy of her; and since heaven has given her such a husband, his wishes have been realized without any trouble to himself."

"Máthavya: This passion of yours for a rustic maiden, when you have so many gems of women at home in your palace, seems to me very like the fancy of a man who is tired of sweet dates, and longs for sour tamarinds as a variety....I can quite understand it must require something surpassingly attractive to excite the admiration of such a great man as you."

"Máthavya: If, as you intimate, she is a hermit's daughter, you cannot lawfully ask her in marriage. You may as well then dismiss her from your mind, for any good the mere sight of her can do."

"Máthavya: Why, of course, my dear friend, you never could seriously expect that at the very first sight she would fall over head ears in love with you, and without more ado come and sit in your lap."

"Anasúyá: That must be the voice of a guest announcing his arrival."

"Anasúyá: Go quickly, dear Priyamvadá, throw yourself at his feet, and persuade him to come back, while I prepare a propitiatory offering[59] for him, with water and refreshments."

"Anasúyá: Oh, my dear Priyamvadá, what delightful news! I am pleased beyond measure; yet when I think that we are to lose our dear [S']akoontalá this very day, a feeling of melancholy mingles with my joy."

"King: Albeit she did coyly turn away Her glowing cheek, and with her fingers guard Her pouting lips, that murmured a denial In faltering accents, she did yield herself A sweet reluctant captive to my will. As eagerly I raised her lovely face; But ere with gentle force I stole the kiss, Too envious Fate did mar my daring purpose."

"General: Victory to the King! We have tracked the wild beasts to their lairs in the forest. Why delay, when everything is ready?"

"King: Here printed on the flowery couch I see The fair impression of her slender limbs; Here is the sweet confession of her love, Traced with her nail upon the lotus-leaf; And yonder are the withered lily-stalks That graced her wrist. While all around I view Things that recall her image, can I quit This bower, e'en though its living be fled?"

"King: My friend Máthavya here has been disparaging the chase, till he has taken away all my relish for it....My good General, as we are just now in the neighbourhood of a consecrated grove, your panegyric upon hunting is somewhat ill-timed, and I cannot assent to all you have said."

"Máthavya: Here are you living the life of a wild man of the woods in a savage unfrequented region, while your State-affairs are left to shift for themselves; and as for poor me, I am no longer master of my own limbs, but have to follow you about day after day in your chases after wild animals, till my bones are all crippled and out of joint. Do, my dear friend, let me have one day's rest."

"King: Alas! how many are the obstacles to the accomplishment of our wishes!Albeit she did coyly turn away Her glowing cheek, and with her fingers guard Her pouting lips, that murmured a denial In faltering accents, she did yield herself A sweet reluctant captive to my will. As eagerly I raised her lovely face; But ere with gentle force I stole the kiss, Too envious Fate did mar my daring purpose."