Haruki Murakami Quote
How can the mind be so imperfect? she says with a smile.I look at my hands. Bathed in the moonlight, they seem like statues, proportioned to no purpose.It may well be imperfect, I say, but it leaves traces. And we can follow those traces, like footsteps in the snow.Where do the lead?To oneself, I answer. That's where the mind is. Without the mind, nothing leads anywhere.I look up. The winter moon is brilliant, over the Town, above the Wall.Not one thing is your fault, I comfort her.
Haruki Murakami
How can the mind be so imperfect? she says with a smile.I look at my hands. Bathed in the moonlight, they seem like statues, proportioned to no purpose.It may well be imperfect, I say, but it leaves traces. And we can follow those traces, like footsteps in the snow.Where do the lead?To oneself, I answer. That's where the mind is. Without the mind, nothing leads anywhere.I look up. The winter moon is brilliant, over the Town, above the Wall.Not one thing is your fault, I comfort her.