He felt as if his heart had dried up. I needed her he thought. I needed someone like her to fill the void inside me. But I wasnโt able to fill the void inside her. Until the bitter end, the emptiness inside her was hers alone.
Haruki MurakamiAt any rate, thatโs how I started running. Thirty threeโthatโs how old I was then. Still young enough, though no longer a young man. The age that Jesus Christ died. The age that Scott Fitzgerald started to go downhill. That age may be a kind of crossroads in life. That was the age when I began my life as a runner, and it was my belated, but real, starting point as a novelist.
Haruki MurakamiPain is inevitable. Suffering is optional. Say youโre running and you think, โMan, this hurts, I canโt take it anymore. The โhurtโ part is an unavoidable reality, but whether or not you can stand anymore is up to the runner himself.
Haruki Murakami