Men Without Women

Like dry ground welcoming the rain, he let the solitude, silence, and loneliness soak in.

So in the end maybe that’s the challenge: to look inside your own heart as perceptively and seriously as you can, and to make peace with what you find there. If we hope to truly see another person, we have to start by looking within ourselves.” Takatsuki

Whether you want to or not. But the place you return to is always slightly different from the place you left. That’s the rule. It can never be exactly the same.” A

You are a pastel-colored Persian carpet, and loneliness is a Bordeaux wine stain that won’t come out

Music has that power to revive memories, sometimes so intensely that they hurt. But

No matter how empty it may be, this is still my heart.

I wish there was a machine that could accurately measure sadness, and display it in numbers that you could record. And it would be great if that machine could fit in the palm of your hand. I think of this every time I measure the air in my tires.

There were times he thought it would have been far better to never have known. Yet he continued to return to his core principle: that, in every situation, knowledge was better than ignorance. However agonizing, it was necessary to confront the facts. Only through knowing could a person become strong.

I've finally experienced what the poet felt. The deep sense of loss after you've met the woman you love, have made love, then said goodbye. Like you're suffocating. The same emotion hasn't changed at all in a thousand years.

If you don’t know what you’re looking for, it’s not easy to look for it.” Erika

Women are all born with a special, independent organ that allows them to lie. This was Dr. Tokai's personal opinion. It depends on the person, he said about the kind of lies they tell, what situation they tell them in, and how the lies are told. But at a certain point in their lives, all women tell lies, and they lie about important things. They lie about unimportant things, too, but they also don't hesitate to lie about the most important things. And when they do, most women's expressions and voices don't change at all, since it's not them lysing, but this independent organ they're equipped with that's acting on its own. That's why - except for a few special cases - they can still have a clear conscience and never lose sleep over anything they say.

The proposition that we can look into another person's heart with perfect clarity strikes me as a fool's game. I don't care how well we think we should understand them, or how much we love them. All it can do is cause us pain. Examining your own heart, however, is another matter. I think it's possible to see what's in there if you work hard enough at it. So in the end maybe that’s the challenge: to look inside your own heart as perceptively and seriously as you can, and to make peace with what you find there. If we hope to truly see another person, we have to start by looking within ourselves.

When I thought of how I’d been living, how I’d been approaching life, it was all so trite, so miserably pointless. Unimaginative middle-class rubbish, and I wanted to gather it all up and stuff it away in some drawer. Or else light it on fire and watch it go up in smoke (though what kind of smoke it would emit I had no idea).

It's strange, isn't it?' the woman said in a pensive voice. 'Everything is blowing up around us, but there are still those who care about a broken lock, and others who are dutiful enough to try to fix it... But maybe that's the way it should be. Maybe working on the little things as dutifully and honestly as we can is how we stay sane when the world is falling apart.

When I should have felt real pain, I stifled it. I didn’t want to take it on, so I avoided facing up to it. Which is why my heart is so empty now.

Tobacco’s a killer,” Kafuku said. “Being alive is a killer, if you think about it,” Misaki said.

One day, I lost sight of her. I happened to glance away for a moment, and when I turned back, she had disappeared.

I need to learn not just to forget but to forgive.

In his life, after all, he had achieved nothing, had been totally unproductive. He couldn’t make anyone else happy, and, of course, couldn’t make himself happy. Happiness? He wasn’t even sure what that meant. He didn’t have a clear sense, either, of emotions like pain or anger, disappointment or resignation, and how they were supposed to feel. The most he could do was create a place where his heart - devoid now of any depth or weight - could be tethered, to keep it from wandering aimlessly

Dreams are the kind of things you can—when you need to—borrow and lend out,

Have you ever tried really hard not to love somebody too much?” “Why?” “It’s simple, really. If I love her too much, it’s painful. I can’t take it. I don’t think my heart can stand it, which is why I’m trying not to fall in love with her.” “What are you doing, exactly, so that you don’t love her too much?” “I’ve tried all kinds of things,” he said. “But it all boils down to intentionally thinking negative thoughts about her as much as I can. I mentally list as many of her defects as I can come up with—her imperfections, I should say. And I repeat these over and over in my head like a mantra, convincing myself not to love this woman more than I should.” “Has it worked?” “No, not so well.

The scene seemed somehow divorced from reality, although reality, he knew, could at times be terribly unreal.

But there are times in this world when it’s not enough just not to do the wrong thing

dry ground welcoming the rain, he let the solitude, silence, and loneliness soak in.

I’m human, after all. I was hurt. But whether it was a lot or a little I can’t say.

Still, when you get to a certain age, and have created your own lifestyle and social standing, and only then start having grave doubts about your value as a human being,

Some people are polite, and some are quick. Each one’s a good quality to have, but most of the time quickness trumps politeness.

All he could do was wait like this, patiently, until it grew light out and the birds awoke and began their day. All he could do was trust in the birds, in all the birds, with their wings and beaks.

Then back to the stage, and the acting. The bright lights, the rehearsed lines. The applause, the falling curtain. Leaving who one was for a brief time, then returning. But the self that one returned to was never exactly the same as the self that one had left behind.

Pero el principio de que el saber está por encima de la ignorancia en cualquier situación constituía la base de su manera de pensar y su postura ante la vida. Por muy doloroso que resultase, debía saberlo. Porque sólo el saber fortalece a las personas.