As long as I was alive, I was something. That was just how it was. But somewhere along the way it all changed. Living turned me into nothing.
— — Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore
An you really will have to make it through that violent, metaphysical, symbolic storm. No matter how metaphysical or symbolic it might be, make no mistake about it: it will cut through flesh like a thousand razor blades. People will bleed there, and you will bleed too. Hot, red blood. You’ll catch that blood in your hands, your own blood and the blood of others.
And once the storm is over you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure, in fact, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.
— Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami (via thechocolatebrigade)
I’d be smiling and chatting away, and my mind would be floating around somewhere else, like a balloon with a broken string.
— Haruki Murakami
So that’s how we live our lives. No matter how deep and fatal the loss, no matter how important the thing that’s stolen from us—that’s snatched right out of our hands—even if we are left completely changed, with only the outer layer of skin from before, we continue to play out our lives this way, in silence. We draw ever nearer to the end of our allotted span of time, bidding it farewell as it trails off behind. Repeating, often adroitly, the endless deeds of the everyday. Leaving behind a feeling of immeasurable emptiness.
— Haruki Murakami
Letters are just pieces of paper. … Burn them, and what stays in your heart will stay, keep them, and what vanishes will vanish.
— Haruki Murakami
As time goes on, you’ll understand. What lasts, lasts; what doesn’t, doesn’t. Time solves most things. And what time can’t solve, you have to solve yourself.
— — Haruki Murakami
If you remember me, then I don’t care if everyone else forgets.
— — Haruki Murakami
After such a long blank period, of course, my feel for the music didn’t come back straight away. And my fingers wouldn’t move the way they used to. But I was thrilled to be playing the piano again. With my hands on the keys, I realized how much I had loved music- and how much I hungered for it. To be able to perform music for yourself is a wonderful thing…it occurred to me that I had never once played for myself. I had always been trying to pass a test, or practice an assignment or impress somebody. Those are all important things, of course, if you are going to master an instrument. But after a certain age you have to start performing for yourself. That’s what music is.
— — Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami.
Memories are what warm you up from the inside. But they’re also what tear you apart.
— — Haruki Murakami
You’re not a kid anymore. You have the right to choose your own life. You can start again. If you want a cat, all you have to do is choose a life in which you can have a cat. It’s simple. It’s your right.
— — The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle by Haruki Murakami
Memories are what warm you up from the inside. But they’re also what tear you apart.
— — Haruki Murakami
You’re all locked up in that little world of yours, and when I try knocking on the door, you just sort of look up for a second and go right back inside.
— — Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami
I dream. Sometimes I think that’s the only right thing to do.
— — Haruki Murakam
I think you still love me, but we can’t escape the fact that I’m not enough for you. I knew this was going to happen. So I’m not blaming you for falling in love with another woman. I’m not angry, either. I should be, but I’m not. I just feel pain. A lot of pain. I thought I could imagine how much this would hurt, but I was wrong.
— — Haruki Murakami
If you only read the books that everyone else is reading, you can only think what everyone else is thinking.
— — Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami
