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Haruki Murakami Quotes - Page 21

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I believe you, she whispers after a moment. Please find my mind.

"I believe you," she whispers after a moment. "Please find my mind."

Haruki Murakami
Believe, Mind, Moments
Haruki Murakami (1993). “Hard-boiled Wonderland and the End of the World: A Novel”, Vintage

But intolerant,narrow minds with no imagination are like parasites that transform the host,change form,and continue to thrive. They're a lost cause, and I don't want anyone like that coming in here.

Haruki Murakami
Imagination, Mind, Want
"Kafka On The Shore". Book by Haruki Murakami, books.google.ru. October 10, 2011.

Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts.

Haruki Murakami
Fate, Storm, Adjusting
"Kafka on the Shore". Book by Haruki Murakami. Chapter One, September 12, 2002.

This was never any place I was meant to be. This isn’t a place for me.

Haruki Murakami
Were Meant To Be, Meant To Be
Haruki Murakami (1994). “The Elephant Vanishes”, Vintage

No matter what the situation may be, I still take pleasure in witnessing the joy of others.

Haruki Murakami
Joy, May, Matter

ice contains no future , just the past, sealed away. As if they're alive, everything in the world is sealed up inside, clear and distinct. Ice can preserve all kinds of things that way- cleanly, clearly. That's the essence of ice, the role it plays.

Haruki Murakami
Past, Ice, Essence

But actually time isn't a straight line. It doesn't ave a shape. In all senses of the term, it doesn't have any form. But since we can't picture something without form in our minds, for the sake of convenience we understand it as a straight line. At this point, humans are the only ones who can make that sort of conceptual substitution.

Haruki Murakami
Mind, Shapes, Lines

There's not much you can do about time - it just keeps on passing. But experience? Don't tell me that. I'm not proud of it, but I don't have any sexual desire. And what sort of experience can a writer have if she doesn't feel passion? It'd be like a chef without an appetite.

Haruki Murakami
Passion, Desire, Proud

You might think you made a new world or a new self, but your old self is always gonna be there, just below the surface, and if something happens, it'll stick its head out and say 'Hi.' You don't seem to realize that. You were made somewhere else.

Haruki Murakami
Thinking, Self, Somewhere Else
"The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle". Book by Haruki Murakami, 1994.

Things pass us by. Nobody can catch them. That's the way we live our lives.

Haruki Murakami
Way, Our Lives

you mean machines are like humans?" I shook my head. "No, not like humans. With machines the feeling is, well, more finite. It doesn't go any further. With humans it's different. The feeling is always changing. Like if you love somebody, the love is always shifting or wavering. It's always questioning or inflating or disappearing or denying or hurting. And the thing is, you can't do anything about it, you can't control it. With my Subaru, it's not so complicated.

Haruki Murakami
Hurt, Mean, Love Is

I wonder how it turns out that we all lead such different lives. Take you and your sister, for example. You're born to the same parents, you grow up in the same household, you're both girls. How do you end up with such wildly different personalities?...One puts on a bikini like little semaphore flags and lies by the pool looking sexy, and the other puts on her school bathing suit and swims her heart out like a dolphin.

Haruki Murakami
Girl, Sexy, Growing Up
Haruki Murakami (2011). “After Dark”, p.16, Random House

People are drawn deeper into tragedy not by their defects but by their virtues.

Haruki Murakami
People, Tragedy, Virtue
Haruki Murakami (2011). “Kafka On The Shore”, p.214, Random House

Love with complications. Scenery was the last thing on my mind.

Haruki Murakami
Mind, Lasts, Norwegian Wood
Haruki Murakami (2007). “Vintage Murakami”, p.5, Vintage

It made her think of Laika, the dog. The man-made satellite streaking soundlessly across the blackness of outer space. The dark, lustrous eyes of the dog gazing out the tiny window. In the infinite loneliness of space, what could the dog possibly be looking at?

Haruki Murakami
Dog, Loneliness, Eye
"Sputnik Sweetheart". Book by Haruki Murakami, www.theguardian.com. 1999.

Most human activities are predicated on the assumption that life goes on. If you take that premise away, what is there left?

Haruki Murakami
Goes On, Assumption, Humans

Was it Aristotle who said the human soul is composed of reason, will, and desire?” “No, that was Plato. Aristotle and Plato were as different as Mel Tormé and Bing Crosby. In any case, things were a lot simpler in the old days,” Komatsu said. “Wouldn’t it be fun to imagine reason, will, and desire engaged in a fierce debate around a table?

Haruki Murakami
Fun, Plato, Soul

The ocean was one of the greatest things he had ever seen in his life—bigger and deeper than anything he had imagined. It changed its color and shape and expression according to time and place and weather. It aroused a deep sadness in his heart, and at the same time it brought his heart peace and comfort.

Haruki Murakami
Ocean, Heart, Sadness

I'm a writer. I don't support any war. That's my principle.

Haruki Murakami
War, Support, Principles

George Orwell is half journalist, half fiction writer. I'm 100 percent fiction writer... I don't want to write messages. I want to write good stories. I think of myself as a political person, but I don't state my political messages to anybody.

Haruki Murakami
Writing, Thinking, Political

And everywhere, infinite options, infinite possibilities. An infinity, and at the same time, zero. We try to scoop it all up in our hands, and what we get is a handful of zero. That's the city

Haruki Murakami
Zero, Hands, Cities
Haruki Murakami (2011). “The Elephant Vanishes”, p.238, Random House

Her partially open lips now opened wide, and her soft, fragrant tongue entered his mouth, where it began a relentless search for unformed words, for a secret code engraved there. Tengo's own tongue responded unconsciously to this movement and soon their tongues were like two young snakes in a spring meadow, newly wakened from their hibernation and hungrily intertwining, each led on by the other's scent.

Haruki Murakami
Spring, Snakes, Two

I dream. Sometimes I think that’s the only right thing to do. To dream, to live in the world of dreams. But it doesn’t last forever. Wakefulness always comes to take me back.

Haruki Murakami
Dream, Thinking, Forever

As I already explaned, I don't have any form. I'm a conceptual metaphysical object.

Haruki Murakami
Metaphysical, Form, Objects
"Kafka on the Shore". Book by Haruki Murakami, January 2005.

My biggest faults is that the faults I was born with grow bigger each year. It's like I was raising chickens inside me. The chickens lay eggs and the eggs hatch into other chickens, which then lay eggs. Is this any way to live a life? What with all these faults I've got going, I have to wonder. Sure, I get by. But in the end, that's not the question, is it?

Haruki Murakami
Years, Eggs, Way To Live
"A Wild Sheep Chase". Book by Haruki Murakami, October 13, 1982.

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