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"It makes no difference. They will kill the deceit. Whoever wants the main freedom must dare to kill himself. He who dares to kill himself knows the secret of deceit. There is no further freedom; here is everything; and there is nothing further. He who dares to kill himself, is God. Now anyone can make it so that there will be no God, and there will be no anything. But no one has done it yet, not once."

Looking outside the window, I could see the deformed green leaves pass by in the rain,
"I can somewhat understand, but..."
Nitadori said, and I turn my face back to hers.
This pretty bespectacled girl who loves horse sashimi and is a year younger than me stared at me earnestly,
"You started creating characters that aren't yourself, right?"

"Don Quixote did not wish for any breakfast; for, as has been said, he was in the habit of nourishing himself on savorous memories."

"The night before I'd seen a play where the heroine was possessed by a dybbuk, and when a dybbuk spoke from her mouth its voice sounded so cavernous and deep you couldn't tell whether it was a man or a woman… She stared at her reflection in the glossed shop windows as if to make sure, moment by moment, that she continued to exist. The silence was so profound I thought part of it must be my fault."

"Koizumi and I divided up the equipment and followed like local Sherpas trailing a film crew doing a piece in the jungle. We eventually arrived at a large shrine in the middle of the mountains… Haruhi stood in front of a sign on the ground that said 'Do not feed' while spreading crumbs like she was trying to make flowers bloom on a wilted tree. I guess she can't read."