Quotes from Haruki Murakami

Each and every moment, our bodies are on a one-way journey to collapse and deterioration, unable to turn back the clock. I close my eyes, I open them again, only to realize that in the interim so many things have vanished. Buffeted by the intense midnight winds, these things—some with names, some without—disappear without a trace. All that is left is a faint memory. Even memory, though, can hardly be relied on. Can anyone say for certain what really happened to us back then?

Intelligent teenage girls were often instinctively theatrical, purposely eccentric, mouthing highly suggestive words to confuse people.

After all, what does the stock market sell us if not the unfounded hope of a rosy future?

Too many memories of her were crammed inside of me, and as soon as one of them found the slightest opening, the rest would force their way out in an endless stream, an unstoppable flood.

I lie here by myself in the dark at two o'clock in the morning and think about that cell in the library. About how it feels to be alone, and the depth of the darkness surrounding me. Darkness as pitch black as the night of the new moon.

Incluso la persona más tranquila y coherente puede pasar por un gran momento de ruptura. Un periodo para la locura, por así decirlo. Seguramente todos necesitamos esos puntos de inflexión.

things never work out like you think they will, but that's what makes life interesting

So once you're dead there's just nothing? Basically.

I try imagining myself in forty years, but it's like trying to picture what lies beyond the universe.

every situation, knowledge was better than ignorance. However agonizing, it was necessary to confront the facts. Only through knowing could a person become strong.

Things change everyday. With each new dawn, it is not the same world as before. And you're not the same person you were either.

The girl was rotten inside. Peel off a layer of that beautiful skin, and you'd find nothing but rotten flesh.

If I listen to some utterly perfect performance of an utterly perfect piece while I'm driving, I might want to close my eyes and die right then and there. But listening to the D major, I can feel the limits of what humans are capable of - that a certain type of perfection can only be realized through a limitless accumulation of the imperfect. And personally, I feel that encouraging. Do you know what I'm getting at?

It was just that, no matter where I found myself, I felt like there was a hole inside me, with the wind rushing through. I never felt satisfied. From the outside you wouldn't imagine I had any troubles.

Wasn't he the one who said you shouldn't trust anybody who calls himself an ordinar man? - Naoko

Dreaming is the day job of novelists, but sharing our dreams is a still more important task for us. We cannot be novelists without this sense of sharing something.

No matter how beautiful a woman might be, she always has imperfections, and likewise no matter how ugly a woman might be, there's always a part of her that is beautiful.

This was something sure to be crammed full of warm secrets, like an antique clock built when peace filled the world.

You can't go anywhere if you resign yourself to being attacked.

Our faces were no more than ten inches apart, but she was light years away from me.

The leaders use their power to crush people's natural desire to think for themselves. It's foot binding for the brain.

So you're thinking you'd rather not hand me a pistol?' 'They're dangerous. And illegal. And Chekov is qa writer you can trust.' 'But this is not a story. We're talking about the real word.' Tamaru narrowed his eyes and looked hard at Aomame. Then, slowly opening his mouth, he said 'Who knows?

As he made his morning coffee, Tengo found himself silently wishing that this peaceful time could go on forever. If he said it aloud, some keen-eared demon somewhere might overhear him. And so he kept his wish for continued tranquility to himself. But things never go the way you want them to, and this was no exception. The world seemed to have a better sense of how you wanted things not to go.

Time. Particles of darkness configured mysterious patterns on my retina. Patterns that degenerated without a sound, only to be replaced by new patterns. Darkness but darkness alone was shifting, like mercury in motionless space. I put a stop to my thoughts and let time pass. Let time carry me along. Carry me to where a new darkness was configuring yet newer patterns.