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| Link | Quote | Stars | Tags | Author |
| 7db2fa1 | The cliche had it that kids were the future, but that wasn't it: they were the unreflective, active present. They were not themselves nostalgic, because they couldn't be, and they retarded nostalgia in their parents. Even as they were getting sick and being bullied and becoming addicted to heroin and getting pregnant, they were in the moment, and she wanted to be in it with them. She wanted to worry herself sick about schools and bullying a.. | Nick Hornby | ||
| 46ce6e4 | Linda seemed to recognize loneliness. Possibly she could see it sitting opposite her, sipping lager and trying not to lose its temper. It was an illness, loneliness--it made you weak, gullible, feebleminded. | Nick Hornby | ||
| 54bfdf1 | I have always been accused of taking the things I love - football, of course, but also books and records - much too seriously, and I do feel a kind of anger when I hear a bad record, or when someone is lukewarm about a book that means a lot to me. Perhaps it was these desperate, bitter men in the West Stand at Arsenal who taught me how to get angry in this way; and perhaps it is why I earn some of my living as a critic - maybe it's those vo.. | Nick Hornby | ||
| 83c1dd8 | He would read up on parenting, if he thought it would help, but his errors always seemed too basic for the manuals. "Always tell your kids they have siblings..." He couldn't imagine any child-raising guru taking the trouble to write that down. Maybe there was a gap in the market." | Nick Hornby | ||
| 4de8400 | I loved them, and would always love them. But there was no place where they could fit anymore, so I had nowhere to put all the things I felt. I didn't know what to do with them, and they didn't know what to do with me, and isn't that just like life? | Nick Hornby | ||
| ac023f9 | And we'd had this stupid scene on the street, and even that was kind of cool, because sometimes it's moments like that, real complicated moments, absorbing moments, that make you realize that even hard times have things in them that make you feel alive. | Nick Hornby | ||
| 535605e | No time spent with a book is ever entirely wasted, even if the experience is not a happy one: there's always something to be learned. It's just that, every now and again, you hit a patch of reading that makes you feel as if you're pootling about... But what can you do about it? We don't choose to waste our reading time; it just happens. The books let us down. | Nick Hornby | ||
| 99db77b | I want to be a well-rounded human being with none of these knotty lumps of rage and guilt and self-disgust. | Nick Hornby | ||
| 4d22561 | I couldn't bear to think about the proper future, so I just tried to make things better for the next twenty minutes or so, over and over again. | Nick Hornby | ||
| d05c537 | Toru: What happens when people open their hearts? Reiko: They get better. | Haruki Murakami | ||
| 9f71d9a | If you wish to carry a hungry weasel in your pocket, it is your choice. | Tad Williams | ||
| a69eee1 | So we face our final hours...and all that was once certain has become uncertain. Except for defeat. That, as always, is the end of all our stories. | tad-williams | Tad Williams | |
| 0bf8966 | I was always amused by the prayers of the saintly. "God do this, God don't do that." I thought God probably laughed at them too, unless He was a little annoyed by their temerity." | Jean Plaidy | ||
| 9da9365 | Is is said that those who study the ways of ambition learn patience. | Jean Plaidy | ||
| 8b29c45 | The most wicked criminals have God on their lips at all times, for God is the only one who can stomach them. | Margaret George | ||
| e5fffc6 | I had never traveled alone before and I discovered that I liked it. No one in the world knew where I was, no one had the ability to reach me. It was like being dead, my escape allowing me to taste that tremendous power my mother possessed forever. | Jhumpa Lahiri | ||
| 8584f52 | I am not the only man to seek his fortune far from home, and certainly I am not the first. Still, there are times I am bewildered by each mile I have traveled, each meal I have eaten, each person I have known, each room in which I have slept. As ordinary as it all appears, there are times when it is beyond my imagination. | Jhumpa Lahiri | ||
| 4da7e81 | Nor was her love for Udayan recognizable or intact. Anger was always mounted to it, zigzagging through her like some helplessly mating pair of insects. Anger at him for dying when he might have lived. For bringing her happiness, and then taking it away. For trusting her, only to betray her. For believing in sacrifice, only to be so selfish in the end. | selfishness | Jhumpa Lahiri | |
| 528fdb4 | Her smile steps offstage for a moment, then does an encore, all while I'm dealing with my blushing face. | Haruki Murakami | ||
| 7418628 | When people pass away, do their thoughts just vanish? | Haruki Murakami | ||
| d72b4a1 | Like a blind dolphin, the night of the new moon silently drew near. | Haruki Murakami | ||
| 2e517e3 | If people aren't equal, where would you fit in? | Haruki Murakami | ||
| 5d738f2 | Exhaustion pays no mind to age or beauty. Like rain and earthquakes and hail and floods. | Haruki Murakami | ||
| 4f76ba5 | Your problem is that your shadow is a bit - how should I put it? Faint. I thought this the first time I laid eyes on you, that the shadow you cast on the ground is only half as dark as that of ordinary people... What I think is this: You should give up looking for lost cats and start searching for the other half of your shadow | Haruki Murakami | ||
| 355029c | Being alive, if you had to define it, meant emitting a variety of smells | Haruki Murakami | ||
| 6fc0a5d | She's kind of funny looking. Her face is out of balance--broad forehead, button nose, freckled cheeks, and pointy ears. A slammed-together, rough sort of face you can't ignore. Still, the whole package isn't so bad. For all I know maybe she's not so wild about her own looks, but she seems comfortable with who she is, and that's the important thing. | Haruki Murakami | ||
| 6bdb242 | If I'm going to merely ramble, maybe I should just snuggle under the warm covers, think of Miu, and play with myself. | rambling masturbation | Haruki Murakami | |
| 957c2f2 | Reality's just the accumulation of ominous prophecies come to life. All you have to do is open a newspaper on any given day to weigh the good news versus the bad news, and you'll see what I mean. | Haruki Murakami | ||
| 614948a | People have to pay a price for the gifts they are given | Haruki Murakami | ||
| 895db27 | As long as an individual's alive, he will undergo experience in some form or other, and those experiences are stored up instant by instant. To stop experiencin' is to die. | Haruki Murakami | ||
| 9e0712b | I know exactly what I'm doing, but I just can't stop. That's my greatest weakness. | Haruki Murakami | ||
| b5ed59f | You're afraid of imagination. And even more afraid of dreams. Afraid of the responsibility that begins in dreams. But you have to sleep, and dreams are a part of sleep. When you're awake you can suppress imagination. But you can't suppress dreams. | responsibility imagination dreams | Haruki Murakami | |
| 6ecd37e | But this thing, whatever it was, this mistlike something, hung there inside my body like a certain kind of potential. I wanted to give it a name, but the word refused to come to mind. I'm terrible at finding the right words for things. I'm sure Tolstoy would have been able to come up with exactly the right word | Haruki Murakami | ||
| 31ed917 | One day, I lost sight of her. I happened to glance away for a moment, and when I turned back, she had disappeared. | Haruki Murakami | ||
| 2e8a0c9 | As I run I tell myself to think of a river. And clouds. But essentially I'm thinking of not a thing. All I do is keep on running in my own cozy, homemade void, my own nostalgic silence. And this is a pretty wonderful thing. No matter what anybody else says. | Haruki Murakami | ||
| 81419c3 | No, I don't think I've been defiled. But I haven't been saved, either. There's nobody who can save me right now, Mr. Wind-Up Bird. The world looks totally empty to me. Everything I see around me looks fake. The only thing thay isn't fake is that gooshy thing inside me. | haruki-murakami may-kasahara empty fake sad | Haruki Murakami | |
| 5a7ed6a | The end of the race is just a temporary marker without much significance. It's the same with our lives. Just because there's an end doesn't mean existence has meaning. An end point is simply set up as a temporary marker, or perhaps as an indirect metaphor for the fleeting nature of existence. | Haruki Murakami | ||
| fe3ac63 | The facts and techniques or whatever they teach you in class isn't going to be very useful in the real world, that's for sure. | Haruki Murakami | ||
| 565c3fb | There's not much you can do about time - it just keeps on passing. But experience? Don't tell me that. I'm not proud of it, but I don't have any sexual desire. And what sort of experience can a writer have if she doesn't feel passion? It'd be like a chef without an appetite. | Haruki Murakami | ||
| e6a8637 | Like flowers scattered in a storm, man's life is one long farewell | Haruki Murakami | ||
| 7b8c77d | 'l tr~? l ymkn lshkhS 'n y`tny bakhr 'bd md~ lHy@. '`ny: ftrD 'nn tzwjn. Hyny'dh l bd 'n tjd `ml khll lnhr. mn sy`tny by Hynm l tkwn m`y? 'w dh dhhbta fy rHl@ `ml, mn sy`tny by Hyny'dh? hl ymkn 'n 'ltSq bk fy kl dqyq@ mn Hytn? 'y nw` mn ltwzn sykwn fy dhlk? 'y nw` mn l`lq@ stkwn tlk? `jl 'w ajl stjz` mny. sttsy'l `m knt tf`lh bHytk, wlmdh tqDy wqtk klh w'nt tr`~ hdhh lmr'@. ln 'stTy` Html dhlk. | Haruki Murakami | ||
| bda3aa9 | Everyone of us is losing something precious to us. Lost opportunities, lost possibilities, feelings we can never get back again. That's part of what it means to be alive. But inside our heads - at least that's where I imagine it - there's a little room where we store those memories. | Haruki Murakami | ||
| c76733f | On any given day, something can come along and steal our hearts. It may be any old thing: a rosebud, a lost cap, a favorite sweater from childhood, an old Gene Pitney record. A miscellany of trivia with no home to call their own. Lingering for two or three days, that something soon disappears, returning to the darkness. There are wells, deep wells, dug in our hearts. Birds fly over them." -from "Pinball, 1973" | Haruki Murakami | ||
| 1abf4b8 | Maybe the world was like a revolving door, it occurred to him as his consciousness was fading away. And which section you ended up in was just a matter of where your foot happened to fall...And there was no logical continuity from one section to another. And it was because of this lack of logical continuity that choices really didn't mean very much. | haruki murakami |