She's letting out her feelings. The scary thing is not being able to do that. When your feelings build up and harden and die inside, then you're in big trouble.
Haruki MurakamiA certain type of perfection can only be realized through a limitless accumulation of the imperfect.
Haruki MurakamiThe library was like a second home. Or maybe more like a real home, more than the place I lived in. By going every day I got to know all the lady librarians who worked there. They knew my name and always said hi. I was painfully shy, though, and could barely reply.
Haruki Murakami