The winter moon becomes a companion, the heart of the priest, sunk in meditation upon religion and philosophy, there in the mountain hall, is engaged in a delicate interplay and exchange with the moon; and it is this of which… — Yasunari Kawabata Copy Share Image
Seeing the moon, he becomes the moon, the moon seen by him becomes him. He sinks into nature, becomes one with nature. The light of the "clear heart" of the priest, seated in the meditation hall in the darkness before… — Yasunari Kawabata Copy Share Image
Along the coast the sea roars, and inland the mountains roar – the roaring at the center, like a distant clap of thunder. — Yasunari Kawabata Copy Share Image
A child walked by, rolling a metal hoop that made a sound of autumn. — Yasunari Kawabata Copy Share Image
“And the Milky Way, like a great aurora, flowed through his body to stand at the edges of the earth. There was a quiet,… — Yasunari Kawabata Copy Share Image
“if you wanna be somebody be yourself dont try to be anybody your not” — Yasunari Kawabata Copy Share Image
“One can’t stop and suddenly speak to a complete stranger, can one?…When it happens I could die of sadness. I feel somehow empty and… — Yasunari Kawabata Copy Share Image
In the depths of the mirror the evening landscape moved by, the mirror and the reflected figures like motion pictures superimposed one on the other. The figures and the background were unrelated, and yet the figures, transparent and intangible, and the background, dim in the gathering darkness, melted into a sort of symbolic world not of this world. Particularly when… — Yasunari Kawabata Copy Share
The woman was silent, her eyes on the floor. Shimamura had come to a point where he knew he was only parading his masculine shamelessness, and yet it seemed likely enough that the woman was familiar with the failing and need not be shocked by it. He looked at her. Perhaps it was the rich lashes of the downcast eyes… — Yasunari Kawabata Copy Share
“It may be said that the Master was plagued in his last match by modern rationalism, to which fussy rules were everything, from which all the grace and elegance of Go as art had disappeared, which quite dispensed with respect for elders and attached no importance to mutual respect as human beings. From the way of Go the beauty of… — Yasunari Kawabata Copy Share
“After he became the Master, the world believed that he could not lose, and he had to believe it himself. Therein was the tragedy.” — Yasunari Kawabata Copy Share Image
“What of it? Tokyo people are complicated. They live in such noise and confusion that their feelings are broken to little bits.” “Everything is… — Yasunari Kawabata Copy Share Image
“Is it a boy or a girl?" "It's a girl. Really! Can't you tell by looking at it? "Is it mine?" "It is not." "Oh? Well, if it is, you needn't say so now. You can say when you feel like it. Years and years from now." "It is not. It really is not. I haven't forgotten that I loved… — Yasunari Kawabata Copy Share
