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Ryu Murakami

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  • Corinaje citiralaпре 3 године
    That’s what violence was: emotion leaking out from consciousness into the physical world, linking up with the muscles of the arms and shoulders and diaphragm and, inevitably, the face.
  • Corinaje citiralaпре 3 године
    And nothing in this world ever looked more deliciously lascivious than that vagina of hers,
  • Corinaje citiralaпре 3 године
    Where had she learned such technique? Were moves like this in the repertoire of all young women these days? Or was it only because of her stunning beauty, and the intensity of his desire for her, that her touch seemed so excruciatingly sensual?
  • Corinaje citiralaпре 3 године
    He didn’t know what to do. He felt completely at her mercy, and was unable even to ask why she’d turned out the lights. It was getting harder to breathe, but he continued blathering on.
  • Corinaje citiralaпре 3 године
    There were no official guidelines for seducing a woman, or for analysing her response. But at some point, as a man, you had to make a move.
  • Corinaje citiralaпре 3 године
    Yeah. I guess I’m just so nuts about her that . . . I don’t know. It’s not as if there’s anything specific to be afraid of. I’m just afraid.’
    ‘That’s the romanticism.’
  • Corinaje citiralaпре 3 године
    reathtakingly beautiful, very popular with the clients, nothing but the top class of patrons, but basically unfathomable. They’d have an almost unnatural sort of beauty, the sort of beauty that made you wonder if it hadn’t been nourished by all the misery and misfortune in the world. The sort of beauty that can destroy a man. And of course that sense of danger, too, seems to drive men wild. The old femme fatale thing.’
  • Corinaje citiralaпре 3 године
    one thing I can say for sure is that the more intimate you become with her, the more obsessed you’re going to get.
  • Corinaje citiralaпре 3 године
    She’s like smoke: you think you’re seeing her clearly enough, but when you reach for her there’s nothing there.
  • Corinaje citiralaпре 3 године
    asaki Asami’s lips were cold and soft and sweet, and the moment the kiss was over he’d experienced, along with exhilaration, a bizarre sense of guilt, or shame. It wasn’t quite like anything he’d ever known before – a sense of having done something that can never be retracted, or forgiven. It was a bitter, almost painful, sort of feeling, but it was also intoxicating.
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