South of the Border, West of the Sun
Haruki Murakami and Philip Gabriel
My 7 highlights
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What we needed were not words and promises but the steady accumulation of small realities.
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Gradually I drew nearer the world, and the world drew nearer to me.
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But I didn’t understand then. That I could hurt somebody so badly she would never recover. That a person can, just by living, damage another human being beyond repair.
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gap.
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As always, as the night wore on, the trio’s playing grew warmer, more intimate.
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I didn’t feel like I was in my own body; my body was just a lonely, temporary container I happened to be borrowing. What would become of me tomorrow I did not know.
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when I look back on it, all I gained was one single, undeniable fact. That ultimately I am a person who can do evil.