theantidote:

One Saturday night, Tsukuru and Haida were up talking late as usual when they turned to the subject of death. They talked about the significance of dying, about having to live with the knowledge that you were going to die. They discussed it mainly in theoretical terms. Tsukuru wanted to…

(via vintageanchorbooks:)

A certain type of perfection can only be realised through a limitless accumulation of the imperfect.
written by Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore (via thedesertsighs)
As I run I tell myself to think of a river. And clouds. But essentially I’m not thinking of a thing. All I do is keep on running in my own cozy, homemade void, my own nostalgic silence. And this is a pretty wonderful thing
written by Haruki Murakami "What I Talk About When I Talk About Running" (via kahitanobastadito)
booksactually:

"If you can love someone with your whole heart, even one person, then there’s salvation in life. Even if you can’t get together with that person."— from 1Q84 by Haruki Murakami

booksactually:

"If you can love someone with your whole heart, even one person, then there’s salvation in life. Even if you can’t get together with that person."

— from 1Q84 by Haruki Murakami

Being with her I feel a pain, like a frozen knife stuck in my chest. An awful pain, but the funny thing is I’m thankful for it. It’s like that frozen pain and my very existence are one.
The pain is an anchor, mooring me here.
written by Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore (via darksuspension)
A design I made with a quote from Murakami’s upcoming book Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage.
If you enjoy it, please vote for my entry at app.snapapp.com/murakami so I can win a signed copy of the novel! Thanks so much :)
What was lost was lost. There was no retrieving it, however you schemed, no returning to how things were, no going back.
written by Hard-boiled Wonderland and the End of the World, Haruki Murakami (via jubilee-tea)
vidovidovidovido:

Murakami, “After Dark”

vidovidovidovido:

Murakami, “After Dark”


Lots of different ways to live and lots of different ways to die. But in the end that doesn’t make a bit of difference. All that remains is a desert.