my heart would swell without warning, and tremble, and lurch with a stab of pain. I would try clamping my eyes shut and gritting my teeth, and waiting for it to pass. And it would pass -- but slowly, taking its own time, and leaving a dull ache behind.

If you can’t understand it without an explanation, you can’t understand it with an explanation.

I never made any plan before writing, however I succeeded. I enjoyed writing with excitement ,"what happen on the next page?"

My face, my self, what would they mean to anybody? Just another stiff. So this self of mine passes some other's self on the street - what do we have to say to each other? Hey there! Hi ya!That's about it. Nobody raises a hand. No one turns around to take another look.

One listless day followed another, with nothing to distinguish one from the next. You could have changed the order and no one would have noticed.

As with marathon runs and lengths of toilet paper, there had to be standards to measure up to.

This is no honky-tonk parade. 1Q84 is the real world, where a cut draws real blood, where pain is real pain and fear is real fear. The moon in the sky is no paper moon.