The Man with the Compound Eyes

So this was what a mountain was like, the same as a person: the more you know, the less you fear.

In all honesty, I don’t envy you the possession of this power over memory, nor do I admire you. Because humans are usually completely unconcerned with the memories of other creatures. Human existence involves the willful destruction of the existential memories of other creatures and of your own memories as well. No life can survive without other lives, with the ecological memories of other living creatures have, memories of the environments in which the live. People don’t realize they need to rely on the memories of other organisms to survive. You think that flowers bloom in colorful profusion just to please your eyes. That a wild boar exists just to provide meat for your table. That a fish takes the bait just for you sake. That only you can mourn. That a stone falling into a gorge is of no significance. That a sambar deer, its head bent low to sip at a creek is not a revelation . . . When in fact the finest movement of any organism represents a change in an ecosystem.” The man with the compound eyes takes a deep sign and says: “But if you were any different you wouldn’t be human.

Each piece of trash that floated here seems to have brought a story with it across the sea, because anything that's been thrown away has its own tale.

Sometimes things haven't gone away, it's just that we can't see them.

..only if you go to places nobody's ever been can you see the colours nobody's ever seen.

Perhaps because I don't think he can completely understand me, I often feel like talking to him.

A story can take children places they've never been before and tell them about things that happened to folks even older than their elders.

The time has come. I really feel I must relinquish my former identity. I have to try to make a change, or I will feel that I have lived my life in vain.

ll life must feel pain in the face of death. To live without ain is to live without dignity.

Going through a mountain to get from place to place as quickly as possible is one way of life, while going around is another.

It's kind of elusive, whatever it is that's communicated through the skin. It's hard to describe, but you know it when you feel it. You can sometimes tell whether another person loves you or not, just by touch.

You must love the land, my children, and ring it in with your love. For the land is the most precious thing on this island. It is like rain, like the heart of a woman.

if you read them carefully you could identify the principles by virtue of which human beings understood the world as well as some hints about human nature.

Sometimes death is payback. At other times, it's just farewell, not owing anyone anything.

Life is sometimes a trade-off.