“That is my dream. But frankly, I do not know if Western feminists have the courage or clarity of vision to help me realize it.”

Source: The Butterfly as Companion: Meditations on the First Three Chapters of the Chuang-Tzu
Context: How do I know that enjoying life is not a delusion? How do I know that in hating death we are not like people who got lost in early childhood and do not know the way home? Lady Li was the child of a border guard in Ai. When first captured by the state of Jin, she wept so much her clothes were soaked. But after she entered the palace, shared the king's bed, and dined on the finest meats, she regretted her tears. How do I know that the dead do not regret their previous longing for life? One who dreams of drinking wine may in the morning weep; one who dreams weeping may in the morning go out to hunt. During our dreams we do not know we are dreaming. We may even dream of interpreting a dream. Only on waking do we know it was a dream. Only after the great awakening will we realize that this is the great dream. And yet fools think they are awake, presuming to know that they are rulers or herdsmen. How dense! You and Confucius are both dreaming, and I who say you are a dream am also a dream. Such is my tale. It will probably be called preposterous, but after ten thousand generations there may be a great sage who will be able to explain it, a trivial interval equivalent to the passage from morning to night.

As quoted in "An Irritant Foreign Body" http://archive.indianexpress.com/news/an-irritant-foreign-body/601585/0, The Indian Express (8 April 2010)

As quoted in 'From my rotting body, flowers shall grow, and I am in them, and that is eternity', Potter P. Emerg Infect Dis, 2011
after 1930

Source: The Long Hard Road Out of Hell

Source: Life, the Truth, and Being Free (2010), p. 152

https://twitter.com/RichardDawkins/status/624104581253963776 (22 July 2015)
Twitter

Stanza 8
Poems (1820), Ode to a Nightingale