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Haruki Murakami Quotes about Heart - Page 2

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Not just beautiful, though — the stars are like the trees in the forest, alive and breathing. And they’re watching me. What I’ve up till now, what I’m going to do — they know it all. Nothing gets past their watchful

Not just beautiful, though — the stars are like the trees in the forest, alive and breathing. And they’re watching me. What I’ve up till now, what I’m going to do — they know it all. Nothing gets past their watchful eyes. As I sit there under the shining night sky, again a violent fear takes hold of me. My heart’s pounding a mile a minute, and I can barely breathe. All these millions of stars looking down on me, and I’ve never given them more than a passing thought before. Not just the stars — how many other things haven’t I noticed in the world, things I know nothing about?

Haruki Murakami
Beautiful, Stars, Heart
FaceBook post by Haruki Murakami from Dec 23, 2013

Then when dusk began to settle he would retrace his steps, back to his own world. And on the way home, a loneliness would always claim his heart. He could never quite get a grip on what it was. It just seemed that whatever lay waiting "out there" was all too vast, too overwhelming for him to possibly ever make a dent in.

Haruki Murakami
Loneliness, Home, Heart

Time expands, then contracts, all in tune with the stirrings of the heart.

Haruki Murakami
Time, Heart, Tunes
"Kafka on the Shore" by Haruki Murakami, (Ch. 23), 2002.

Living like an empty shell is not really living, no matter how many years it may go on. The heart and flesh of an empty shell give birth to nothing more than the life of an empty shell.

Haruki Murakami
Heart, Years, Giving
Haruki Murakami (2007). “Vintage Murakami”, p.161, Vintage

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

What do you mean, 'playing really creatively'? Can you give me an example?" "Hmm, let's see ... you send the music deep enough into your heart so that it makes your body undergo a kind of a physical shift, and simultaneously the listener's body also undergoes the same kind of physical shift. It's giving birth to that kind of shared state. Probably.

Haruki Murakami
Heart, Mean, Giving

I would stare at the grains of light suspended in that silent space, struggling to see into my own heart. What did I want? And what did others want from me? But I could never find the answers. Sometimes I would reach out and try to grasp the grains of light, but my fingers touched nothing.

Haruki Murakami
Struggle, Heart, Light
Haruki Murakami (2011). “Norwegian Wood”, p.37, Random House

There is nothing in this world that never takes a step outside a person's heart.

Haruki Murakami
Honesty, Heart, World
Haruki Murakami (2011). “1Q84: Books 1 and 2”, p.475, Random House

My short stories are like soft shadows I have set out in the world, faint footprints I have left. I remember exactly where I set down each and every one of them, and how I felt when I did. Short stories are like guideposts to my heart.

Haruki Murakami
Writing, Heart, Shadow
Haruki Murakami (2011). “Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman”, p.9, Random House

Tengo could hardly believe it-- that in this frantic, labyrinth-like world, two people's hearts-- a boy's and a girl's-- could be connected, unchanged, even though they hadn't seen each other for twenty years.

Haruki Murakami
Girl, Believe, Heart

His heart, like mine, was ticking off the time allotted to his small restless body.

Haruki Murakami
Heart, Body, Restless

The faintest gleam of their lost memories glimmered for the briefest moment in their hearts.

Haruki Murakami
Memories, Heart, Gleam
Haruki Murakami (1994). “The Elephant Vanishes”, Vintage

When you see runners in town is easy to distinguish beginners from veterans. The ones panting are beginners; the ones with quiet, measured breathing are the veterans. Their hearts, lost in thought, slowly tick away time. When we pass each other on the road, we listen to the rhythm of each other's breathing, and sense the way the other person is ticking away the moments.

Haruki Murakami
Heart, Breathing, Way

Crying is personal. On the other hand, laughing is more general . Laughing makes our hearts wider.

Haruki Murakami
Heart, Hands, Laughing
Source: yositeru.blogspot.com

Suicides? Heart attacks? The papers didn't seem interested. The world was full of ways to die, too many to cover. Newsworthy deaths had to be exceptional. Most people go unobserved.

Haruki Murakami
Suicide, Heart, People
Haruki Murakami (2011). “Dance Dance Dance”, p.332, Random House

Hatred is like a long, dark shadow. Not even the person it falls upon knows where it comes from, in most cases. It is like a two-edged sword. When you cut the other person, you cut yourself. The more violently you hack at the other person, the more violently you hack at yourself. It can often be fatal. But it is not easy to dispose of. Please be careful, Mr.Okada. It is very dangerous. Once it has taken root in your heart, hatred is the most difficult think in the world to shake off.

Haruki Murakami
Fall, Taken, Heart
FaceBook post by Haruki Murakami from Nov 02, 2015

Then I noticed that my shadow was crying too, shedding clear, sharp shadow tears. Have you ever seen the shadows of tears, Mr. Wind-Up Bird? They’re nothing like ordinary shadows. Nothing at all. They come here from some other, distant world, especially for our hearts. Or maybe not. It struck me then that the tears my shadow was shedding might be the real thing, and the tears that I was shedding were just shadows. You don’t get it, I’m sure, Mr. Wind-Up Bird. When a naked seventeen-year-old girl is shedding tears in the moonlight, anything can happen. It’s true.

Haruki Murakami
Girl, Real, Heart

Stories lie deep in our souls. Stories lie so deep at the bottom of our hearts that they can bring people together on the deepest level. When I write a novel, I go into such depths.

Haruki Murakami
Lying, Writing, Heart

In certain areas of my life, I actively seek out solitude. Especially for someone in my line of work, solitude is, more or less, an inevitable circumstance. Sometimes, however, this sense of isolation, like acid spilling out of a bottle, can unconsciously eat away at a person's heart and dissolve it. You could see it, too, as a kind of double-edged sword. It protects me, but at the same time steadily cuts away at me from the inside.

Haruki Murakami
Heart, Cutting, Solitude

When the orbits of these two satellites of ours happened to cross paths, we could be together. Maybe even open our hearts to each other. But that was only for the briefest moment. In the next instant we'd be in absolute solitude. Until we burned up and became nothing.

Haruki Murakami
Heart, Two, Solitude
Haruki Murakami (2011). “Sputnik Sweetheart”, p.129, Random House

Adults constantly raise the bar on smart children, precisely because they're able to handle it. The children get overwhelmed by the tasks in front of them and gradually lose the sort of openness and sense of accomplishment they innately have. When they're treated like that, children start to crawl inside a shell and keep everything inside. It takes a lot of time and effort to get them to open up again. Kids' hearts are malleable, but once they gel it's hard to get them back the way they were.

Haruki Murakami
Children, Smart, Heart
FaceBook post by Haruki Murakami from Nov 10, 2014

A strange, terrific force unlike anything I've ever experienced is sprouting in my heart, taking root there, growing. Shut up behind my rib cage, my warm heart expands and contracts independent of my will--over and over.

Haruki Murakami
Heart, Independent, Roots
FaceBook post by Haruki Murakami from Oct 22, 2014

Whether it's good for anything or not, cool or totally uncool, in the final analysis what's most important is what you can't see but can feel in your heart.

Haruki Murakami
Heart, Important, Finals
Haruki Murakami (2011). “What I Talk About When I Talk About Running”, p.172, Random House

my heart would swell without warning, and tremble, and lurch with a stab of pain. I would try clamping my eyes shut and gritting my teeth, and waiting for it to pass. And it would pass -- but slowly, taking its own time, and leaving a dull ache behind.

Haruki Murakami
Pain, Eye, Heart

Inside him, twenty years dissolved and mixed into one complex, swirling whole. Everything that had accumulated over the years-- all he had seen, all the words he has spoken, all the values he had held-- all of it coalesced into one solid, thick pillar in his heart, the core of which was spinning like a potter's wheel. Wordlessly, Tengo observed the scene, as if watching the destruction and rebirth of a planet.

Haruki Murakami
Heart, Years, Twenties

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