All of his strength and blood and breath were entering the earth now. His brain and spirit became part of the earth. He rose. He floated above, weightless, watching his human self labor and writhe. He gave himself to it willingly, traded himself for all that he loved and valued, and felt free.

One can't judge till one's forty; before that we're too eager, too hard, too cruel, and in addition much too ignorant.

If you try to use your head to think about things, people don't want to have anything to do with you

Written By Haruki Murakami

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