She wore her clothing with such utter naturalness and grace that she could have been a bird that had wrapped itself in a special wind as it made ready to fly off to another world.
— Haruki Murakami, Tony Takitani
She just faded into nothingness, as if someone had gone backstage and flipped a switch.
— Haruki Murakami, Tony Takitani
Durum Semolina, golden wheat wafting in Italian fields. Could you imagine how astonished the Italians would have been if they knew that what they were exporting in 1971 was really loneliness?
— Haruki Murakami, The Year of Spaghetti
As I’m sure you know, water always picks the shortest route to flow down. Sometimes, though, the shortest route is actually formed by the water. The human thought process is a lot like that.
— Haruki Murakami, Where I’m Likely To Find It.
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