“The purest kind of love is that of our comrades, which cannot but be twisted because of the division of our fatherland. Mr. Cho, did you know that gingkoes are either male or female, unlike most trees, which are both? But the male and female gingkoes rarely stand side-by-side. They grow old alone for hundreds of years near village pavilions, knowing that hundreds of kilometers away is their partner. They always think of and yearn for each other. They cannot even take a step towards each other, but they communicate their affection through scent and colors. In a sense, we are all like gingkoes in this divided land. Far away from each other, we have grown old and gnarled, but we are still joined at heart. Ah, Mr. Yang has made me sentimental.”