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1. black
2. grey
3. blue
4. red
5. brown
6. white

I have this strange feeling that I’m not myself anymore. It’s hard to put into words, but I guess it’s like I was fast asleep, and someone came, disassembled me, and hurriedly put me back together again. That sort of feeling.

Haruki Murakami

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  Anyone who falls in love is searching for the missing pieces of themselves. So anyone who’s in love gets sad when they think of their lover. It’s like stepping back inside a room you have fond memories of, one you haven’t seen in a long time.

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  I don’t want to express my opinion about actual politics, because if I do, I have to be responsible for my decision.

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  Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions.

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  And once the storm is over, you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in.

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  I was always hungry for love. Just once, I wanted to know what it was like to get my fill of it – to be fed so much love I couldn’t take any more. Just once.

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  I sometimes think that people’s hearts are like deep wells. Nobody knows what’s at the bottom. All you can do is imagine by what comes floating to the surface every once in a while.

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  Whatever it is you’re seeking won’t come in the form you’re expecting.

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  When I am writing, I do not distinguish between the natural and supernatural. Everything seems real.

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  Unfortunately, the clock is ticking, the hours are going by. The past increases, the future recedes. Possibilities decreasing, regrets mounting.

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  Everything passes. Nobody gets anything for keeps. And that’s how we’ve got to live.

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  No matter how far you travel, you can never get away from yourself.

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  I want you always to remember me. Will you remember that I existed, and that I stood next to you here like this?

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