Those were strange days, now that I look back at them. In the midst of life, everything revolved around death.

[...] Shimamoto had her own little world within her. A world that was for her alone, one I could not enter.

Thanks to the long days of rain, the blades of grass glowed with a deep-green luster, and they gave off the smell of wildness unique to things that sink their roots into the earth.

Once thing goes wrong, then the whole house of cards collapses. And there's no way you can extricate yourself. Until someone comes along to drag you out.

People soon get tired of things that aren't boring, but not of what is boring.

To be able to grasp something of value, sometimes you have to perform seemingly inefficient acts.

Will you wait for me forever?