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Quote by Ryu Murakami

“Everybody wants to talk about themselves, and everybody wants to hear everybody else's story, so we take turns playing reporter and celebrity.”

Quote by Ryu Murakami

Author

Ryu Murakami

Ryu Murakami is a celebrated Japanese novelist whose works are characterized by their unique and often dark narratives. Born in February 19, 1952, he has made significant contributions to the world of literature with his innovative storytelling and exploration of complex human emotions. more

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“So, why were you trying to flirt with that asshole at the boardwalk?” My jaw drops. I’ve got to be hearing things. I— “Wow, there,” Ruby says. “That’s a new form of distraction I haven’t heard before. I like that. I thought you two were a couple by the way you look at each other but—” I panic-stare at her and she snorts, “Never mind, you do you, keep talking.” I stammer. “It…it was…” Jack says, maybe to Ruby or maybe to himself, “Ellie’s not usually like this, for sure.” “How would you know what I’m like?” My cheeks flush, and I barely notice Ruby lining up the needle. People love to label me. What about what I want to label myself? Especially Jack—he’s pretended not to know me for so long. Jack grins. “Well, we’ll have to debate later on that.” “No, we won’t!” There’s no way I’m going to let him ignore me. I’m going to throttle him as soon as— “You’re all done.” Ruby places a mirror in front of me. “What do you think?” Already? I turn my head to look; my skin’s a little pink, but there it is—the star-shaped silver piercing is on my right ear, at the exact spot I’d chosen. I breathe out in surprise, giving it the label I want. “It’s perfect.” Jack smiles smugly, standing up from the stool. “And I was the perfect distraction.” I’ll ignore that.”

“I dreamt that I took William Burrough’s penis and tied it up with piano wire. I hung him like a Chagall painting…In the next part J.G. Ballard swam through streets of female urine. The girls read his book Crash and then mowed him down with their Volkswagen, crushing his chest slowly against a brick wall. As he screamed in agony larger than representation can accommodate, they referred to his text and had orgasms. Later, they jumped up and down yelling, ‘You’re not a hero. You’re not a hero. You’re not. You’re not. You’re not.’ “ “How do you analyze that part of the dream, Anna?” …”I guess I’m nervous about my birthday.”

“Good heavens, there are very detailed, and very arbitrary descriptions in all occult books that suggest how this is done and all this stuff you have to go through. I think myself that it's time for them to come out of the circle and into the street with all this. I said that in an introduction to the Necronomicon. I just don't follow all this absolutely arbitrary ritual of certain incenses and herbs and words and so on.”