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Quote by Haruki Murakami

“And it came to me then. That we were wonderful travelling companions, but in the end no more than lonely lumps of metal on their own separate orbits. From far off they look like beautiful shooting stars, but in reality they’re nothing more than prisons, where each of us is locked up alone, going nowhere. 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”

Quote by Haruki Murakami

Book:Sputnik Sweetheart
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Sputnik Sweetheart

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Haruki Murakami

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“অফিসারটি শিক্ষিত লোক। একলা পড়েছেন, কথা কইবার লোক নেই। আমাকে পেয়ে নির্জনে জমানো তার চিন্তাধারা যেন উপছে পড়ল। হাফিজ-সাদীর অনেক বয়েৎ আওড়ালেন এবং মরুপ্রান্তরে একা একা আপন মনে সেগুলো থেকে নিংড়ে নিংড়ে যে রস বের করেছেন তার খানিকটা আমায় পরিবেষণ করলেন। আমি আমার ভাঙা ভাঙা ফারসীতে জিজ্ঞাসা করলুম, সঙ্গীহীন জীবন কি কঠিন বোধ হয় না? বললেন, আমার চাকরী পল্টনের, ইস্তফা দেবার উপায় নেই। কাজেই বাইরের কাবুল নদীটি নিয়ে পড়ে আছি। রোজ সন্ধ্যায় তার পাড়ে গিয়ে বসি আর ভাবি যেন একমাত্র নিতান্ত আমার জন্য সে এই দুর্গের দেয়ালে আঁচল বুলিয়ে চলে গিয়েছে। অন্যায় কথাও নয়। আর দুচারজন যারা নদীর পারে যায়, তাদের মতলব ঠাণ্ডা হওয়ার। আমিও ঠাণ্ডা হই, কিন্তু শীতকালেও কামাই দিইনে। গোড়ার দিকে আমিও স্বার্থপর ছিলুম, কাবুল নদী আমার কাছে সৌন্দর্য উপভোগের বস্তু ছিল। তার গান শুনতুম, তার নাচ দেখতুম, তার লুটিয়ে-পড়া সবুজ আঁচলের এক প্রান্তে আসন পেতে বসতুম। এখন আমাদের অন্য সম্পর্ক। আচ্ছা বলুন তো, অমাবস্যার অন্ধকারে যখন কিছুই দেখা যায় না, তখন আপনি কখনো নদীর পারে কান পেতে শুয়েছেন? আমি বললুম, নৌকোতে শুয়ে অনেক রাত কাটিয়েছি। তিনি উৎসাহের সঙ্গে বললেন, তা হলে আপনি বুঝতে পারবেন। মনে হয় না কুলকুল শুনে, যেন আর দুদিন কাটলেই আরেকটু, আর সামান্য একটু অভ্যাস হয়ে গেলেই হঠাৎ কখন এই রহস্যময়ী ভাষার অর্থ সরল হয়ে যাবে। আপনি ভাবছেন আমি কবিত্ব করছি। আদপেই না। আমার মনে হয় মেঘের ডাক। যেমন জনপ্রাণীকে বিদ্যুতের ভয় জানিয়ে দেয়, জলের ভাষাও তেমনি কোনো এক আশার বাণী জানাতে চায়। দূর সিন্ধুপার থেকে সে বাণী উজিয়ে উজিয়ে এসেছে, না কাবুল পাহাড়ের শিখর থেকে বরফের বুকের ভিতর ঘুমিয়ে ঘুমিয়ে এখানে এসে গান গেয়ে জেগে উঠেছে, জানিনে।”

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Book:দেশে বিদেশে
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“And he felt it. Rogal Dorn had been feeling it for days, weeks, building up, up, up, rising over him like a black fog, dragging at his limbs, clogging his mind, making him question every decision he made, every order he gave. He hadn’t had any respite at all, of any kind, for three months. Three months! His sharpness was going now, his reactions were slower. A billion functionaries depending on him for everything, reaching out to him, suffocating him with their endless demands, pleas for help, for guidance. A billion eyes, on him, all the time. And he’d fought, too. He’d fought. He’d fought primarchs, brothers he’d once thought of as equals or betters. He’d seen the hatred in Perturabo’s eyes, the mania in Fulgrim’s, stabbing at him, poisoning him. Every duel, every brief foray into combat, had chipped a bit more off, had weakened the foundations a little further. Fulgrim had been the worst. His brother’s old form, so pleasing to the eye, had gone, replaced by bodily corruption so deep he scarcely had the words for it. That degradation repulsed him almost more than anything else. It showed just how far you could fall, if you lost your footing in reality completely. You couldn’t show that repulsion. You couldn’t betray the doubt, or give away the fatigue. You couldn’t give away so much as a flicker of weakness, or the game was up, so Dorn’s face remained just as it always had been – static, flinty, curt. He kept his shoulders back, spine straight. He hid the fevers that raged behind his eyes, the bone-deep weariness that throbbed through every muscle, all for show, all to give those who looked up to him something to cling on to, to believe in. The Emperor, his father, was gone, silent, locked in His own unimaginable agonies, and so everything else had crashed onto his shoulders. The weight of the entire species, all their frailties and imperfections, wrapped tight around his mouth and throat and nostrils, choking him, drowning him, making him want to cry out loud, to cower away from it, something he would never do, could never do, and so he remained where he was, caught between the infinite weight of Horus’ malice and the infinite demands of the Emperor’s will, and it would break him, he knew, break him open like the walls themselves, which were about to break now too, despite all he had done, but had it been enough, yes it had, no it could not have been, they would break, they must not break… He clenched his fist, curling the fingers up tight. His mind was racing again. He was on the edge, slipping into a fugue state, the paralysis he dreaded. It came from within. It came from without. Something – something – was making the entire structure around him panic, weaken, fail in resolve. He was not immune. He was the pinnacle – when the base was corrupted, he, too, eventually, would shatter.”

The Black LibraryThe Horus HeresyThe Siege Of Terra
Book:Warhawk
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“At the root of your lies, is there any truth, father?’ The darkness becomes a forest, dark trunks reaching to an untouchable sky, roots crawling out and down into the abyss beneath. The man on the chair is sitting on the snow-covered ground, a fire burning before Him. A shadow moves out of the dark between the trees. It is huge, sable-furred and silver-eyed. It drags its shadow with it as it comes forwards. It pauses on the edge of the light. ‘You claim to be a man,’says the wolf, ‘but that is a lie revealed to any that can see you here. You deny you wish godhood, but you raise up an empire to praise you. You call yourself the Master of Mankind, and perhaps that is the only truth you ever spoke – that you wish to make your children slaves.”

The Horus HeresyThe Siege Of TerraQuotes About Truth
Book:The Solar War
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