A friend to kill time is a friend sublime. Haruki Murakami More Quotes by Haruki Murakami More Quotes From Haruki Murakami She curled up and pressed her cheek against his chest. Her ear was right above his heart. She was listening to his thoughts. "I need to know this," Aomame said. "That we're in the same world, seeing the same things. Haruki Murakami listeningheartneeds No matter where i go, i still end up me. What's missing never changes. The scenery may change, but i'm still the same incomplete person. The same missing elements torture me with a hunger that i can never satisfy. I think that lack itself is as close as i'll come to defining myself. Haruki Murakami being-yourselfchangethinking People want to be bowled over by something special. Nine times out of ten you might strike out, but that tenth time, that peak experience, is what people want. That's what can move the world. That's art. Haruki Murakami peopleartmoving Maybe it's just hiding somewhere. Or gone on a trip to come home. But falling in love is always a pretty crazy thing. It might appear out of the blue and just grab you. Who knows — maybe even tomorrow. Haruki Murakami crazylovefall Spending plenty of time on something can be the most sophisticated form of revenge. Haruki Murakami sophisticatedformrevenge Whatever it is you're seeking won't come in the form you're expecting. Haruki Murakami expectingformlife What I want is for the two of us to meet somewhere by chance one day, like, passing on the street, or getting on the same bus. Haruki Murakami one-daypassing-ontwo I contented myself with whiskey, for medicinal purposes. It helped numb my various aches and pains. Not that the alcohol actually reduced the pain; it just gave the pain a life of its own, apart from mine. Haruki Murakami alcoholpainpurpose The sad truth is that certain types of things can't go backward. Once they start going forward, no matter what you do, they can't go back the way they were. If even one little thing goes awry, then that's how it will stay forever. Haruki Murakami matterforeverlittles Those five fingers and that palm were like a display case crammed full of everything I wanted to know--and everything I had to know. By taking my hand, she showed me what these things were. That within the real world, a place like this existed. In the space of those ten seconds I became I tiny bird, fluttering in the air, the wind rushing by. From high in the sky I could see a scene far away. It was so far off I couldn't make it out clearly, yet something was there, and I knew that someday I would travel to that place. Haruki Murakami realairhands Being active every day makes it easier to hear that inner voice. Haruki Murakami easieractivevoice 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 alivelongway The most dangerous creature here would have to be me. So maybe I'm just scared of my own shadow. Haruki Murakami scareddangerousshadow Things outside you are projections of what's inside you, and what's inside you is a projection of what's outside. So when you step into the labyrinth outside you, at the same time you're stepping into the labyrinth inside. Haruki Murakami labyrinthprojectionsteps Once she was out of the car and gone, my world was suddenly hollow and meaningless. Haruki Murakami cargoneworld I'm kind of a low-key guy. The spotlight doesn't suit me. I'm more of a side dish--cole slaw or French fries or a Wham! backup singer. Haruki Murakami spotlightguykeys Maybe the only thing I can definitely say about is this: That’s life. Maybe the only thing we can do is accept it, without really knowing what’s going on. Haruki Murakami acceptingknowingcan-do She was truly a beautiful girl. I could feel a small polished stone sinking through the darkest waters of my heart. All those deep convoluted channels and passageways, and yet she managed to toss her pebble right down to the bottom of it all. Haruki Murakami girlheartbeautiful Death is not the opposite of life, but a part of it. Haruki Murakami oppositeslifedeath The fresh smell of coffee soon wafted through the apartment, the smell that separates night from day. Haruki Murakami smellcoffeenight
