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Quote by Haruki Murakami

“You sit at the edge of the world, I am in a crater that's no more. Words without letters Standing in the shadow of the door. The moon shines down on a sleeping lizard, Little fish rain down from the sky. Outside the window there are soldiers, steeling themselves to die. (Refrain) Kafka sits in a chair by the shore, Thinking of the pendulum that moves the world, it seems. When your heart is closed, The shadow of the unmoving Sphinx, Becomes a knife that pierces your dreams. The drowning girl's fingers Search for the entrance stone, and more. Lifting the hem of her azure dress, She gazes—at Kafka on the shore.”

Quote by Haruki Murakami

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Haruki Murakami

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“A dense, artistic kind of imperfection stimulates your consciousness, keeps you alert. If I listen to some utterly perfect performance of an utterly perfect piece while I'm driving, I might want to close my eyes and die right then and there. But listening to the D major, I can feel the limits of what humans are capable of-- that a certain type of perfection can only be realised through a limitless accumulation of imperfect.”

“If only I could wipe out this me who's here, right here and right now. I seriously consider it. In this thick wall of trees, on this path that's not a path, if I stopped breathing, my consciousness would silently be buried in the darkness, every last drop of my dark violent blood dripping out, my DNA rotting among the weeds. Then my battle would be over. Otherwise, I'll eternally be murdering my father, violating my mother, violating my sister, lashing out at the world forever. I close my eyes and try to find my center.”

“Setiap orang merasakan sakit dengan caranya sendiri, setiap orang menyimpan lukanya sendiri. Jadi aku rasa, aku juga peduli dengan ketidakadilan dan keadilan seperti orang lain. Tapi yang paling menjijikkan bagiku adalah orang-orang yang tidak memiliki imajinasi. Orang-orang yang disebut orang-orang palsu oleh T.S Eliot. Orang-orang yang mengisi kurangnya imajinasi dengan hal-hal yang tidak berperasaan, orang-orang yang sama sekali tidak menyadari apa yang mereka lakukan. Orang-orang tidak berperasaan yang melontarkan kata-kata kosong kepadamu, yang mencoba memaksamu melakukan sesuatu yang tidak kau inginkan.”

“...dirty dishes out to the kitchen and starts washing them. I watch her do all this. I want to say something, but when I'm with her words no longer function as they're supposed to. Or maybe the meaning that ties them together has vanished? I stare at my hands and think of the dogwood outside the window, glinting in the moonlight. That's where the blade that's stabbing me in the heart is. "Will I see you again?" I ask.”