Time cannot be spurred on like a horse.

Year after year students tumble along like the waters of a river. They flow away, and only the teacher is left behind, like some deeply buried rock at the bottom of the current.

Green makes me think of silence, or maybe it's loneliness. I get the feeling of a terribly distant star.

Things have value Because somebody buys them, Because somebody pays money; If you can find a buyer, Even a lie is worth a thousand yen.

Something whose connection with human experience we cannot grasp is bound to be frightening.

Perhaps the act of writing is necessary when nothing happens.

When I was young, I could bounce back from things like a brand-new rubber ball.