Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage

by Haruki Murakami

A single cavity, one aching shoulder, and the beautiful vision and sound I hoped to convey goes out the window. The human body’s that fragile.

with not an ounce of warmth, like a fine rain falling under the midnight sun.

‘Maybe too complicated for me to explain in English.’ Olga laughed. ‘Some things in life are too complicated to explain in any language.’

We truly believed in something back then, and we knew we were the kind of people capable of believing in something – with all our hearts. And that kind of hope will never simply vanish.