Haruki Murakami Quotes About Consciousness

Quotes about: Consciousness

• Nothing in the real world is as beautiful as the illusions of a person about to lose consciousness.

  Haruki Murakami

  Beautiful, Running, Real

  Haruki Murakami (2011). “What I Talk About When I Talk About Running”, p.66, Random House

• That's why I like listening to Schubert while I'm driving. Like I said, it's because all his performances are imperfect. A dense, artistic kind of imperfection stimulates your consciousness, keeps you alert. If I listen to some utterly perfect performance of an utterly perfect piece while I'm driving, I might want to close my eyes and die right then and there. But listening to the D major, I can feel the limits of what humans are capable of - that a certain type of perfection can only be realized through a limitless accumulation of the imperfect. And personally I find that encouraging.

  Haruki Murakami

  Eye, Perfect, Listening

  FaceBook post by Haruki Murakami from Jan 07, 2015

• On any given day, something claims our attention. Anything at all, inconsequential things. A rosebud, a misplaced hat, that sweater we liked as a child, an old Gene Pitney record. A parade of trivia with no place to go. Things that bump around in our consciousness for two or three days then go back to wherever they came from... to darkness. We've got all these wells dug in our hearts. While above the wells, birds flit back and forth.

  Haruki Murakami

  Children, Heart, Two

• Hundreds of butterflies flitted in and out of sight like short-lived punctuation marks in a stream of consciousness without beginning or end.

  Haruki Murakami

  Butterfly, Sight, Punctuation Marks

  FaceBook post by Haruki Murakami from Jun 18, 2015

• Then she took my hand and touched it to the wound beside her eye. I caressed the half-inch scar. As I did so, the waves of her consciousness pulsed through my fingertips and into me - a delicate resonance of longing. Probably someone should take this girl in his arms and hold her tight, I thought. Probably someone other than me. Someone qualified to give her something. "Goodbye, Mr. Wind-Up Bird. See you again sometime.

  Haruki Murakami

  Girl, Goodbye, Eye

  "The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle". Book by Haruki Murakami, October 10, 2011.

• The best musicians transpose consciousness into sound; painters do the same for color and shape.

  Haruki Murakami

  Color, Musician, Sound

• Well, think of what I’m doing to you right now. For me I’m the self, and you’re the object. For you, of course, it’s the exact opposite—you’re the self to you and I’m the object. And by exchanging self and object, we can project ourselves onto the other and gain self-consciousness. Volitionally.” “I still don’t get it, but it sure feels good.” “That’s the whole idea,” the girl said.

  Haruki Murakami

  Girl, Thinking, Self

• Her voice was like a line from an old black-and-white Jean-Luc Godard movie, filtering in just beyond the frame of my consciousness.

  Haruki Murakami

  Black And White, Voice, Lines

• Far away, I could hear them lapping up my brains. Like Macbeth's witches, the three lithe cats surrounded my broken head, slurping up that thick soup inside. The tips of their rough tongues licked the soft folds of my mind. And with each lick my consciousness flickered like a flame and faded away.

  Haruki Murakami

  Cat, Flames, Broken

• Properly speaking, should any individual ever have exact, clear knowledge of his own core consciousness?" "I wouldn't know," I said. "Nor would we," said the scientists.

  Haruki Murakami

  Consciousness, Scientist, Individual

  Haruki Murakami (1993). “Hard-boiled Wonderland and the End of the World: A Novel”, Vintage

• Waves of thought are stirring. In a twilight corner of her consciousness, one tiny fragment and another tiny fragment call out wordlessly to eachother, their spreading ripples intermingling.

  Haruki Murakami

  Twilight, Tiny, Consciousness

• Has the dark shadow really disappeared? Or is it inside me, concealed, waiting for its chance to reappear? Like a clever thief hidden inside a house, breathing quietly, waiting until everyone’s asleep. I have looked deep inside myself, trying to detect something that might be there. But just as our consciousness is a maze, so too is our body. Everywhere you turn there’s darkness, and a blind spot. Everywhere you find silent hints, everywhere a surprise is waiting for you.

  Haruki Murakami

  Clever, Dark, Breathing

• In order to pin down reality as realilty, we need another reality to relativize the first. Yet that other reality requires a third reality to serve as its grounding. An endless chain is created within our consciousness, and it is the maintenance of this chain which produces the sensation that we are actually here, that we ourselves exist.

  Haruki Murakami

  Reality, Order, Needs

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