Quotes from Haruki Murakami

An old cat is a good friend to talk to.

When he woke up the next day, the world was still there, and things were already moving forward, like the great karmic wheel of Indian mythology that kills every living thing in its path.

Maybe the world was like a revolving door, it occurred to him as his consciousness was fading away. And which section you ended up in was just a matter of where your foot happened to fall...And there was no logical continuity from one section to another. And it was because of this lack of logical continuity that choices really didn't mean very much.

Humans are immortal in their thought. Though strictly speakin', not immortal, but endlessly, asymptotically close to immortal. That's eternal life.

And in the movement of the sun, I felt something I hardly know how to name: some huge, cosmic love. 

It wasn't like there was some obvious change. Actually, the problem was more a lack of change. Nothing about her had changed - the way she spoke, her clothes, the topics she chose to talk about, her opinions - they were all the same as before. Their relationship was like a pendulum gradually grinding to a halt, and he felt out of synch.

Slowly like a movie fade out, the real world evaporates. I'm alone, inside the world of the story. My favorite feeling in the world.

I'm not asking for sympathy, but it would be nice if you could give me a bit more in the way of a response. Other than those cold interjections of yours—ohs and ums. How about a conjunction? A conjunction would be nice. A yet or a but.

I couldn't tell wether the hole that opened up inside me was from missing you or from the change of season

In a world of time, nothing can go back to the way it was.

They were people who had no doubt whatsoever that the more narrow-minded they became, the closer they got to heaven.

She and I were bound together at the border between life and death. It was like that for us from the start

Animals that not only move by their own free will and share feelings with people but also possess sight and hearing qualify as deserving of names.

Become like a sheet of blotting paper and soak it all in. Later on you can figure out what to keep and what to unload.

Why my wife owned a shotgun, I had no idea. Or ski masks. Neither of us had ever skied. But she didn't explain and I didn't ask. Married life is weird, I felt.

They put up with such strenuous training, and where did their thoughts, their hopes and dreams, disappear to? When people pass away, do their thoughts just vanish?

Dreams are the kind of things you can borrow and lend out.

You shouldn't fear boundaries, but you also should not be afraid of destroying them.

No matter how far you run. Distance might not solve anything.

When you sneak into somebody's backyard, it does seem that guts and curiosity are working together. Curiosity can bring guts out of hiding at times, maybe even get them going. But curiosity usually evaporates. Guts have to go for the long haul. Curiosity's like a fun friend you can't really trust. It turns you on and then it leaves you to make it on your own-with whatever guts you can muster.

Living turned me into nothing. Weird... People are born in order to live, right? But the longer I've lived, the more I've lost what's inside me—and ended up empty. And I bet the longer I live, the emptier, the more worthless, I'll become. Something's wrong with this picture. Life isn't supposed to turn out like this! Isn't it possible to shift direction, to change where I'm headed?

For darkness terrifies. It swallows you, warps you, nullifies you. Who alive can possibly profess confidence in darkness? In the dark, you can't see.

There is an instinctive withdrawal for the sake of preservation, a closure that assumes the order of completion. Winter is a season unto itself.

Aunque logres ocultar los recuerdos, o enterrarlos muy hondo, no puedes borrar la Historia. Más vale que se te quede grabado, la Historia no puede borrarse ni alterarse. Porque significaría matarte a ti mismo.