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More Quotes by Yasunari Kawabata
The labor into which a heart has poured its whole love--where will it have its say, to excite and inspire, and when?
Now, even more than the evening before, he could think of no one with whom to compare her. She had become absolute, beyond comparison. She had become decision and fate.
Put your soul in the palm of my hand for me to look at, like a crystal jewel. I'll sketch it in words.
A secret, if it's kept, can be sweet and comforting, but once it leaks out it can turn on you with a vengeance.
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.
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.
The snow on the distant mountains was soft and creamy, as if veiled in a faint smoke.
They were words that came out of nothing, but they seemed to him somehow significant. He muttered them over again.
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.
I wonder what the retirement age is in the novel business. The day you die.
