Haruki Murakami Quotes

Death was not the opposite of life. It was already here, within my being, it had always been here, and no struggle would permit me to forget that.

Do you know what ‘Sputnik’ means in Russian? ‘Travelling companion’. I looked it up in a dictionary not long ago. Kind of a strange coincidence if you think about it. I wonder why the Russians gave th...

Entonces no lo sabía. No sabía que era capaz de herir a alguien tan hondamente que jamás se repusiera. A veces, hay personas que pueden herir a los demás por el mero hecho de existir

Ever since I was little my mother had told me, if you don’t know something, go to the library and look it up.

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 lea...

Exerting yourself to the fullest within your individual limits: that’s the essence of running, and a metaphor for life—-and for me, for writing as well.

From now on, little by little, you must prepare yourself to face death. If you devote all of your future energy to living, you will not be able to die well. You must begin to shift gears, a little at...

Having a drink in bed while listening to music and reading a book. As precious to me as a beautiful sunset or good clean air.

He appeared before me and departed. We were not able to speak to or touch each other. But in that short interval, he transformed many things inside me. He literally stirred my mind and body the way a...

Her voice was like a line from an old black-and-white Jean-Luc Godard movie, filtering in just beyond the frame of my consciousness.

How can those who live in the light of day possibly comprehend the depths of night?

I always say—a prejudice on my part, I'm sure—you can tell a lot about a person's character from his choice of sofa. Sofas constitute a realm inviolate unto themselves.This, however, is something that...

I am nothing. I’m like someone who’s been thrown into the ocean at night, floating all alone. I reach out, but no one is there. I call out, but no one answers. I have no connection to anything.

I can't afford to take responsibilities for others' lives. It's all I can do to bear the weight of my own life and my own loneliness.

I could disappear from the face of the earth, and the world would go on moving without the slightest twinge. Things were tremendously complicated, to be sure, but one thing was clear: no one needed me...

I didn't have much to say to anybody but kept to myself and my books. With my eyes closed, I would touch a familiar book and draw it's fragrance deep inside me. This was enough to make me happy.

I don't think we should judge the value of our lives by how efficient they are.

I gazed up at the sky. I was in a tiny boat, on a vast ocean. No wind, no waves, just me floating there. Adrift on the open sea....A tiny boat cut loose from the fiction of the ship.

I just run. I run in void. Or maybe I should put it the other way: I run in order to acquire a void.

I know I'm a little different from everyone else, but I'm still human being. That's what I'd like you to realize. I'm just a regular person, not some monster. I feel the same things everyone else does...