37 Quotes About Kafka-on-the-shore

It's all a question of imagination. Our responsibility begins with the power to imagine. It's just as Yeats said: "In dreams begin responsibility. Turn this on its head and you could say that where there's no power to imagine, no responsibility can arise." [...] Just like Adolf Eichmann caught up in the twisted dreams of a man named Hitler. - Oshima

A question wells up inside me, a question so big it blocks my throat and makes it hard to breathe. Somehow I swallow it back, finally choosing another. "Are memories such an important thing?""It depends," she replies, and closes her eyes. "In some cases, they're the most important thing there is.

what disgusts me even more are people who have no imagination. People who fill up that lack of imagination with heartless bits of straw, not even aware of what they're doing, trying to force you to do what you don't want to.

He felt as if his heart had dried up. I needed her he thought. I needed someone like her to fill the void inside me. But I wasn’t able to fill the void inside her. Until the bitter end, the emptiness inside her was hers alone.

But thing in the past are like plate that’s shattered to pieces. You can never put it back together like it was, right?

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. Over and over you play this out, like some ominous dance with death just before dawn. Why? Because this storm isn't some­ thing that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you. This storm is you. Something inside of you.

A dense, artistic kind of imperfection stimulates your consciousness, keeps you alert. If I listen to some utterly perfect performance of an utterly perfect piece while I'm driving, I might want to close my eyes and die right then and there. But listening to the D major, I can feel the limits of what humans are capable of-- that a certain type of perfection can only be realised through a limitless accumulation of imperfect.

What I think is this: You should give up looking for lost cats and start searching for the other half of your shadow.

Far away a crow caws. The earth slowly keeps on turning. But beyond any of those details there are dreams. And everyone´s living in them.