Browsing Topic Best Norwegian Wood Quotes

I work through teams. It’s the only way I know how to work.

Writing is the only way I know how to pray.

But who can say what’s best? That’s why you need to grab whatever chance you have of happiness where you find it, and not worry about other people too much. My experience tells me that we get no more than two or three such chances in a life time, and if we let them go, we regret it for the rest of our lives.

A gentleman is someone who does not what he wants to do, but what he should do.

Only the dead stay seventeen forever.

I probably still haven’t completely adapted to the world. I don’t know, I feel like this isn’t the real world. The people, the scene: they just don’t seem real to me.

Whatever it is you’re seeking won’t come in the form you’re expecting.

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

I read Naoko’s letter again and again, and each time I read it I would be filled with the same unbearable sadness I used to feel whenever Naoko stared into my eyes. I had no way to deal with it, no place I could take it to or hide it away. Like the wind passing over my body, it had neither shape nor weight, nor could I wrap myself in it.

So I made up my mind I was going to find someone who would love me unconditionally three hundred and sixty-five days a year. Watanabe: Wow, and did your search pay off? M: That’s the hard part. I guess I’ve been waiting so long I’m looking for perfection. That makes it tough.

Despite your best efforts, people are going to be hurt when it’s time for them to be hurt.

Was the earth put here just to nourish human loneliness?

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

I have this strange feeling that I’m not myself anymore. It’s hard to put into words, but I guess it’s like I was fast asleep, and someone came, disassembled me, and hurriedly put me back together again. That sort of feeling.

If you only read the books that everyone else is reading, you can only think what everyone else is thinking.

Death is not the opposite of life, but a part of it.

Maybe the star doesnt even exist any more.Yet sometimes that light seems more real to me than anything.

No matter how much suffering you went through, you never wanted to let go of those memories.

If you remember me, then I don’t care if everyone else forgets.

Anyone who falls in love is searching for the missing pieces of themselves. So anyone who’s in love gets sad when they think of their lover. It’s like stepping back inside a room you have fond memories of, one you haven’t seen in a long time.

No truth can cure the sorrow we feel from losing a loved one. No truth, no sincerity, no strength, no kindness can cure that sorrow. All we can do is see it through to the end and learn something from it, but what we learn will be no help in facing the next sorrow that comes to us without warning.

I dream. Sometimes I think that’s the only right thing to do.

People leave strange little memories of themselves behind when they die.

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.

What a terrible thing it is to wound someone you really care for and to do it so unconsciously.

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. Over and over you play this out, like some ominous dance with death just before dawn. Why? Because this storm isn’t something that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you. This storm is you. Something inside of you. So all you can do is give in to it, step right inside the storm, closing your eyes and plugging up your ears so the sand doesn’t get in, and walk through it, step by step.

Lost opportunities, lost possibilities, feelings we can never get back. 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 in this library. And to understand the workings of our own heart we have to keep on making new reference cards. We have to dust things off every once in awhile, let in fresh air, change the water in the flower vases. In other words, you’ll live forever in your own private library.

Which is why I am writing this book. To think. To understand. It just happens to be the way I’m made. I have to write things down to feel I fully comprehend them.

Life doesn’t require ideals. It requires standards of action.

So I’m not crazy after all! I thought it looked good myself once I cut it all off. Not one guy likes it, though. They all tell me I look like a first grader or a concentration camp survivor. What’s this thing that guys have for girls with long hair? Fascists, the whole bunch of them! Why do guys all think girls with long hair are the classiest, the sweetest, the most feminine? I mean, I myself know at least two hundred and fifty unclassy girls with long hair. Really.

When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.

Love with complications. Scenery was the last thing on my mind.

When you fall in love, the natural thing to do is give yourself to it.

All of us are imperfect human beings living in an imperfect world.

I don’t go out of my way to make friends, that’s all.