Haruki Murakami: Frases em inglês (página 20)

“Our hearts are not stones. A stone may disintegrate in time and lose its outward form. But hearts never disintegrate. They have no outward form, and whether good or evil, we can always communicate them to one another.”

“Mediocrity is a constant, as one Russian writer put it. Russians have a way with aphorisms. They probably spend all winter thinking them up.”

“I'm not a fast reader. I like to linger over each sentence, enjoying the style. If I don't enjoy the writing, I stop.”

“If you think of someone enough, you’re sure to meet them again.”

“There are lots of things we never understand, no matter how many years we put on, no matter how much experience we accumulate.”

“The world is an inherently unfair place.”

“You don't have to judge the whole world by your own standards. Not everybody is like you, you know.”

“Is action merely the incidental product of thought, or is thought the consequential product of action?”

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

“Wherever there's hope there's a trial.”

“The best musicians transpose consciousness into sound; painters do the same for color and shape.”

“It's a question of attitude. If you really work at something you can do it up to a point. If you really work at being happy you can do it up to a point. But anything more than that you can't. Anything more than that is luck.”

“It's not right for one friend to do all the giving and the other to do all the taking: that's not read friendship.”

“Between the time the last train leaves and the first train arrives, the place changes: it's not the same as in daytime.”

“Life: I'll never understand it.”

“The heart apparently doesn’t stop that easily.”

“He does not exist here, with me, but flesh that does not exist will never die, and promises unmade are never broken.”

“Mental acuity was never born from comfortable circumstances.”

“What if I’ve forgotten the most important thing? What if somewhere inside me there is a dark limbo where all the truly important memories are heaped and slowly turning into mud?… the thought fills me with an almost unbearable sorrow.”