Haruki Murakami

“I wasn't in love with her. And she didn't love me. For me the question of love was irrelevant. What I sought was the sense of being tossed about by some raging, savage force, in the midst of which lay something absolutely crucial. I had no idea what that was. But I wanted to thrust my hand right inside her body and touch it, whatever it was.”


Haruki Murakami, South of the Border, West of the Sun
tags: lust, sex
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South of the Border, West of the Sun South of the Border, West of the Sun by Haruki Murakami
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