Haruki Murakami Quotes

Oh, to be home again, home again, home again! Under the apple-boughs, down by the mill!

I grew up in a wood cabin on Puget Sound in Manchester, Wash. My family taught me to appreciate the arts and the outdoors, and I still yearn for the absolute silence I experienced there when I was young.

Summer afternoon, summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language.

Safe in the hallowed quiets of the past.

If you yourself are at peace, then there is at least some peace in the world.

Peace in ourselves, peace in the world.

It's good to touch the green, green grass of home

Life is much different from the days when there were lilies in my mother’s garden, and all my secrets fit into a paper cup.

That corner of the world smiles for me more than anywhere else.

Peace at home is peace in the country. Peace in the country is peace in the world.

There will be no peace in the world until there is peace in our hearts.

Everything in my room was old and faded, but I loved that about it. It felt like there might be secrets in the walls, in the four-poster bed, especially in that music box.

life before the monster

May peace-dreamers And peace-lovers Occupy the length and breadth Of the world.

Each generation supposes that the world was simpler for the one before it.

Forest deep, silent bells There's a secret no one tells Valley quiet, water still Lynburns watching on the hill Apples red, corn gold Almost everyone grows old

To make peace, our hearts must be at peace with the world.

Peace and quiet govern the world.

World peace must develop from inner peace.

I empathize with those who yearn for a simpler world, for some bygone golden age of domestic and international tranquility. But for the mass of humanity it is an age that never was.

The things that brought me the most comfort now were too small to list. Raspberries in cream. Sparrows with cocked heads. Shadows of bare limbs making for sidewalk filigrees. Roses past their prime with their petals loose about them. The shouts of children at play in the neighborhood, Ginger Rogers on the black-and-white screen.

It always smelled like it was raining outside, even if it wasn't, and you were in the only nice, dry, cosy place in the world.

Do you remember the time darlin' when everything made more sense in the world? Oh I remember, I remember... when life made more sense... Take me back, take me back, take me way back... to when life made more sense.

We both know, you and I, that if all men were gardeners, the world at last would be at peace.

Like when you sit in front of a fire in winter — you are just there in front of the fire. You don't have to be smart or anything. The fire warms you.