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Quote by Haruki Murakami

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Men Without Women

This book is a compilation of short stories that delve into the intricacies of human connections and the male experience, offering readers a nuanced look at the human condition. more

Author

Haruki Murakami

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“All day flashes of happiness swept through me. Something fantastic had happened. We had chatted a bit, that was all. For a year she had worked here, for a year I had seen her going to and fro, and she had seen me. I had never felt any of what I felt now. Not once, not even close. Then we had met at a party, smiled at each other - and that was that? Yes that was that. How was it possible? How could it change everything? Because everything was changed, I knew that. My heart told me. And the heart is never wrong. The heart is never ever wrong.”

“I saw her in front of me and a wave of happiness and sorrow rose within me. How was this going to turn out? How was it going to turn out? I hadn't eaten all day, and I couldn't get anything down at home either, I wasn't interested and food didn't seem necessary. I was burning up. For the 2 hours before I could leave I wandered around, lay down on my bed, stared at the ceiling, got up and paced to and fro. It was terrible, I was so high that all I could possible expect now was a fall.”

“It would be so much easier to give up, to say a cold goodbye and not contact her again. All the problems, all the pain, all the defeats would finish there. But I couldn't. She stood up, it was late, time to go home, I accompanied her to the door, said bye, watched her go, she walked up the hill without turning. When I went back down I put on 'Siamese Dream' again, lay back on the bed and let my mind fill with thoughts of her”

“I've had to dig the crush from myself, tucked away behind my final rib, deeper than the emotion I felt. Have had to slide my fingers through pulp and innards to pluck it out, (have been) gutted. I want to exhume it from my soul, too, but that's proving harder. How do I wring an intangible thing? I can't even find my soul with my hands, let alone rinse it and hang it out to dry. I want to see the crush drip drip to the ground, just as the water drips from my hair to the pavement now on the walk back to my car, toes purpled with cold.”