brian eccl park

even good men need a little grace.

I was looking at the moon, and so was Aomame. That gray chunk of rock hanging in the still-bright sky at three thirty in the afternoon. That lonely, taciturn satellite. We stood side by side, looking at that moon. But what does it mean? That the moon will guide me to her?

If the sun were to explode,
you wouldn’t even know about it
for eight minutes

And nothing in the world
gives me a heavier heart
than knowing I wouldn’t be able to reach you
before the world went dark.

(Source: scalethechainlinkfence, via theplainjane)

'That world no longer exists,' the man said. These were the last words he spoke.

Haruki Murakami, 1Q84

It is not that the meaning cannot be explained. But there are certain meanings that are lost forever the moment they are explained in words.

Haruki Murakami, 1Q84

"Please, Miss Aomame," the man said. Then he released a brief sigh. "There is nothing in this world that never takes a step outside a person’s heart. And it just so happens—should I say?—that Tengo Kawana has become a figure of no little significance to us at the moment.”


Francis Alys - Sometimes Making Something Leads to Nothing (1997)

(via exploding-daisies)

Doe this mean that my life has been nothing but a process through which I am giving concrete form to the dormant image inside me? And how much responsibility do I bear for her having become irretrievably lost?

Courage isn’t permanent. It’s a tenuous and fickle thing. Courage and cowardice exist in every man.

'Good-bye,' she murmured, bidding farewell not so much to the apartment as to the self that had lived here.

Haruki Murakami, 1Q84

Tamaru shook his head. ‘No, I don’t want your money. The world moves less by money than by what you owe people and what they owe you. I don’t like to owe anybody anything, so I keep myself as much on the lending side as I can.’

Haruki Murakami, 1Q84

and i think everything changed the day i realized that—no matter where you are—the possibility of ending your own life is never more than fifteen minutes away.

It’s not so easy for people to end their own lives. It’s not like in the movies. There, they do it like nothing, no pain, and it’s all over, they’re dead. The reality is not like that. You lie in bed for ten years with the piss oozing out of you.

Haruki Murakami, 1Q84

Whenever the sixth tune on the flip side of the LP, ‘Atlanta Blues,’ began, she would grab one of Tengo’s body parts and praise Bigard’s concise, exquisite solo, which was sandwiched between Armstrong’s song and his trumpet solo. ‘Listen to that! Amazing—that first, long wail like a little child’s cry! What is it—surprise? Overflowing joy? An appeal for happiness? It turns into a joyful sigh and weaves its way through a beautiful river of sound until it’s smoothly absorbed into some perfect, unknowable place. There! Listen! Nobody else can play such thrilling solos. Jimmy Noone, Sidney Bechet, Pee Wee Russell, Benny Goodman: they’re all great clarinetists, but none of them can create such perfectly sculptured works of art.’

Haruki Murakami, 1Q84

both vice and virtue are nothing in themselves—
strength of heart may be
    LOVE or HATE
and anger without temperance may be fury or justice