People have separated from each other with walls of concrete that blocked the roads to connection and love. and Nature has been defeated in the name of development.

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Because you cannot see him, God is everywhere.

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I suppose even a woman's hatred is a kind of love.

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Seeing the moon, he becomes the moon, the moon seen by him becomes him. He sinks into nature, becomes one with nature. The light of the "clear heart" of the priest, seated in the meditation hall in the darkness before the dawn, becomes for the dawn moon its own light.

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The labor into which a heart has poured its whole love--where will it have its say, to excite and inspire, and when?

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Put your soul in the palm of my hand for me to look at, like a crystal jewel. I'll sketch it in words.

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In the depths of the mirror the evening landscape moved by, the mirror and the reflected figures like motion pictures superimposed one on the other. The figures and the background were unrelated, and yet the figures, transparent and intangible, and the background, dim in the gathering darkness, melted into a sort of symbolic world not of this world. Particularly when a light out in the mountains shone in the center of the girl's face, Shimamura felt his chest rise at the inexpressible beauty of it.

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From the way of Go the beauty of Japan and the Orient had fled. Everything had become science and regulation.

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The true joy of a moonlit night is something we no longer understand. Only the men of old, when there were no lights, could understand the true joy of a moonlit night.

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Our language is primarily for expressing human goodness and beauty.

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