Haruki Murakami

A mesmerising mystery story about friendship from the internationally bestselling author of Norwegian Wood and 1Q84 Tsukuru Tazaki had four best friends at school. By chance all of their names contained a colour. The two boys were called Akamatsu, meaning ‘red pine’, and Oumi, ‘blue sea’, while the girls’ names were Shirane, ‘white root’, and Kurono, ‘black field’. Tazaki was the only last name with no colour in it. One day Tsukuru Tazaki’s friends announced that they didn't want to see him, or talk to him, ever again. Since that day Tsukuru has been floating through life, unable to form intimate connections with anyone. But then he meets Sara, who tells him that the time has come to find out what happened all those years ago.

Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage

Imzy

se eu tivesse tempo eu terminava esse hoje mesmo pra matar a duvida que tá me consumindo a respeito do que foi que aconteceu 

victor

É bom você se lembrar disso. A história não pode ser apagada nem refeita. Isso equivale a matar a sua própria existência.

Cemrenur Solakoğlu

Yaşam karmaşık notalar bütünü gibi, diye düşünüyordu Tsukuru. 16lık ölçü, 32lik ölçü, bir sürü garip simge ve anlamı belirsiz yazılarla dolu. Bunu doğru okuyabilmek bir hayli güç bir iş, doğru okunsa ve doğru bir şekilde seslere dönüştürülse bile, orada var olan anlamı insanların doğru şekliyle anlayıp, değerlendirebilecekleri kesin değil. Bu sonucun insanları mutlu etme garantisi yok. Insanın hayatındaki meseleler neden bu kadar karmaşık olmak zorunda acaba?

Crossing that threshold between life and death would have been easier than swallowing down a slick, raw egg.

If there had been a door within reach that led straight to death, he wouldn’t have hesitated to push it open, without a second thought, as if it were just a part of ordinary life. 

The pain he felt was, if anything, more intense, and weighed down on him even more greatly because of the physical distance. Alienation and loneliness became a cable that stretched hundreds of miles long, pulled to the breaking point by a gigantic winch.

"Maybe you needed to talk with somebody. More than you ever imagined."

Karen

You can hide memories, suppress them. But you can’t erase the history that produced them.

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