Haruki Murakami, 色彩を持たない多崎つくると、彼の巡礼の年 Quotes

In long-distance running the only opponent you have to beat is yourself, the way you used to be.

As long as you have the courage to admit mistakes, things can be turned around.

There are ways of dying that don't end in funerals. Types of death you can't smell.

Never let the darkness or negativity outside affect your inner self. Just wait until morning comes and the bright light will drown out the darkness.

Most everything you think you know about me is nothing more than memories.

Spend your money on the things money can buy. Spend your time on the things money can’t buy.

What happens when people open their hearts?"... "They get better.

In this world, there are things you can only do alone, and things you can only do with somebody else. It's important to combine the two in just the right amount.

Some things in life are too complicated to explain in any language.

If you can love someone with your whole heart, even one person, then there's salvation in life. Even if you can't get together with that person.

If you can’t understand it without an explanation, you can’t understand it with an explanation.

Don't feel sorry for yourself. Only arseholes do that.

Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts.

Such wounds to the heart will probably never heal. But we cannot simply sit and stare at our wounds forever.

Please remember: things are not what they seem.

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

As we go through life we gradually discover who we are, but the more we discover, the more we lose ourselves.

Time flows in strange ways on Sundays, and sights become mysteriously distorted.

Our responsibility begins with our imagination.

Dreams come from the past, not from the future. Dreams shouldn't control you--you should control them.

It's because of you when I'm in bed in the morning that I can wind my spring and tell myself I have to live another good day.

What matters is deciding in your heart to accept another person completely. When you do that, it is always the first time and the last.

Find me now. Before someone else does.

I want to write about people who dream and wait for the night to end, who long for the light so they can hold the ones they love.

In a sense, I'm the one who ruined me: I did it myself.

Nobody likes being alone that much. I don't go out of my way to make friends, that's all. It just leads to disappointment.

If you do anything out of the ordinary, you can be sure someone, somewhere, will get upset.

If you're in pitch blackness, all you can do is sit tight until your eyes get used to the dark.

Will you wait for me forever?

Deep rivers run quiet.

Possibilities are like cancer. The more I think about them, the more they multiply, and there's no way to stop them. I'm out of control.

No matter how much time passes, no matter what takes place in the interim, there are some things we can never assign to oblivion, memories we can never rub away.

A person learns how to love himself through the simple acts of loving and being loved by someone else.

Silence, I discover, is something you can actually hear.

What's nurtured slowly grows well.

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

In dreams begins responsiblities.

People fall in love without reason, without even wanting to. You can't predict it. That's love.

It's like Tolstoy said. Happiness is an allegory, unhappiness a story.

Start making excuses and there's no end to it. I can't live that kind of life.

I'm not so weird to me.

Exerting yourself to the fullest within your individual limits: that's the essence of running, and a metaphor for life

The sky grew darker, painted blue on blue, one stroke at a time, into deeper and deeper shades of night.

One heart is not connected to another through harmony alone. They are, instead, linked deeply through their wounds

You can hide as cleverly as you like, but in the final analysis mimicry is deception, pure and simple. It doesn't solve a thing.

Time flows in a strange way on Sundays.

Memories and thoughts age, just as people do. But certain thoughts can never age, and certain memories can never fade.

Become like a sheet of blotting paper and soak it all in. Later on you can figure out what to keep and what to unload.

She's letting out her feelings. The scary thing is not being able to do that. When your feelings build up and harden and die inside, then you're in big trouble.

I learned that realism can come in all shapes and sizes. The world is big enough for different values to coexist.