Kafka on the Shore

“Every one of us is losing something precious to us,” he says after the phone stops ringing. “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. A room like the stacks

She knows all kinds of things you’re clueless about, she’s experienced a range of emotions you’ve never felt. The longer people live, the more they learn to distinguish what’s important from what’s not.

is now like something from the distant past. We’re so caught up in our everyday lives that events of the past, like ancient stars that have burned out, are no longer in orbit about our minds.

“Things change every day, Mr Nakata. With each new dawn it’s not the same world as the day before. And you’re not the same person you were, either. You see what I’m saying?”

most choices we make in life are equally outrageous.” Johnnie Walker lightly touched his silk hat, as if making sure it was still in place.

Our headlights lick at the trunks, illuminating one after another.

There’s only one kind of happiness, but misfortune comes in all shapes and sizes. It’s as Tolstoy said: happiness is an allegory, unhappiness a story.

Anyway, my point is that it’s really hard for people to live their lives alone.”

That’s the important thing – follow the rules and the woods will wordlessly accept me, sharing some of their peace and beauty.

This place is too calm, too natural – too complete. I don’t deserve it. At least not yet.