No mistake about it. Ice is cold; roses are red. I’m in love.
— Sputnik Sweetheart by Haruki Murakami (via heavyheartedlove)
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.
— Sputnik Sweetheart
Why does loving someone mean you have to hurt them just as much? I mean, if that’s the way it goes, what’s the point of loving someone? Why the hell does it have to be like that?
— Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore
Your heart is like a great river after a long spell of rain, spilling over its banks. All signposts that once stood on the ground are gone, inundated and carried away by that rush of water. And still the rain beats down on the surface of the river. Every time you see a flood like that on the news you tell yourself: That’s it. That’s my heart.
— Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore
Why do people have to be this lonely? What’s the point of it all? Millions of people in this world, all of them yearning, looking to others to satisfy them, yet isolating themselves. Why? Was the earth put here just to nourish human loneliness?
— Haruki Murakami (Sputnik Sweetheart)
According to Aristophanes in Plato’s The Banquet, in the ancient world of legend there were three types of people. In ancient times people weren’t simply male or female, but one of three types : male/male, male/female or female/female. In other words, each person was made out of the components of two people. Everyone was happy with this arrangment and never really gave it much thought. But then God took a knife and cut everyone in half, right down the middle. So after that the world was divided just into male and female, the upshot being that people spend their time running around trying to locate their missing half.
— Haruki Murakami (Kafka on the Shore)
