Jennifer Wan

“The Rat spent many tranquil afternoons settled in his rattan chair. When he began to drift off, he could feel time pass through his body like gently flowing water. As he sat, hours, days, weeks went by.
Occasionally, ripples of emotion would lap against his heart as if to remind him of something. When that happened, he closed his eyes, clamped his heart shut, and waited for the emotions to recede. It was only a brief sensation, like the shadows that signal the coming of night. Once the ripple had passed, the quiet calm returned as if nothing untoward had ever taken place.”
― Haruki Murakami, Pinball, 1973

“In the end, writing is not a full step toward self-healing, just a tiny, very tentative move in that direction.”
― Haruki Murakami, Wind/Pinball: Two Novels

“Civilization is communication,” the doctor said. “That which is not expressed doesn’t exist.”
― Haruki Murakami, Wind/Pinball: Two Novels

“I took a long look at my reflection in the window. My eyes were a bit hollow with fever. I could live with that. And my jaw was dark with five o'clock (five thirty, actually) shadow. I could live with that too. The problem was that the face I saw wasn't my face at all. It was the face of the twenty-four-year-old guy you sometimes sit across from on the train. My face and soul were lifeless shells, of no significance to anyone. My soul passes someone else's on the street. Hey, it says. Hey, the other responds. Nothing more. Neither waves. Neither looks back.”
― Haruki Murakami, Pinball, 1973