I sometimes think that people’s hearts are like deep wells. Nobody knows what’s at the bottom. All you can do is imagine by what comes floating to the surface every once in a while. — Haruki Murakami, Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman. (Knopf; First Edition edition August 29, 2006) Advertisements
Gazing at the rain, I consider what it means to belong, to become part of something. To have someone cry for me. — Haruki Murakami, Dance, Dance, Dance (The Rat #4) Vintage Books (December 1, 2003)
Loss was not a skill, not a measure of a life. And yet I still felt I had something to lose. — Haruki Murakami, Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World. (Kodansha USA Inc; 1st edition, September 1, 1991) Originally published 1985.
Maybe it’s that life, at times, gets to you in a way that there’s really nothing more to say. — Alessandro Baricco, Silk (Vintage,1998)
Autumn approaches and the heart begins to dream of four-tatami rooms — Matsuo Bashō The Sound of Water: Haiku by Bashō, Buson, Issa, and Other Poets (trans. Sam Hamill with illustrations by Kaji Aso)
Since my house burned down I now have a better view of the rising moon ― Mizuta Masahide (1657–1723)
The secrets inside her mind are like flowers in a garden at nighttime, filling the darkness with perfume. — Fumiko Enchi, Masks. (Vintage; 1st Aventura ed edition, September 12, 1983) Originally published 1958.