Sunday, March 11, 2012

Hushed


























"But even so, every now and then I would feel a violent stab of loneliness. The very water I drink, the very air I breathe, would feel like long, sharp needles. The pages of a book in my hands would take on the threatening metallic gleam of razor blades. I could hear the roots of loneliness creeping through me when the world was hushed at four o'clock in the morning."

Haruki Murakami, 'The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle'

2 comments:

  1. Couldn't resist commenting. As I read this it feels serendipitous -- because in a few hours I'm taking off for Mandu.

    Your selection of excerpts and images are part of my daily online readings.

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  2. Glad to know, Pranab. You have a very nice blog. I loved Cafe Lumiere too, by the way.

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