I don't think there is any point in continuing writing. Since I have neither killed nor been killed, there's nothing further to explain. (Box Man, p. 38)
Kōbō AbePeople like me who lack something are liable to become spiteful critics.
Kōbō AbeLoneliness was an unsatisfied thirst for illusion.
Kōbō AbeAnimal smell is beyond philosophy.
Kōbō AbeDo you shovel to survive, or survive to shovel?
Kōbō AbeStichwörter: books philosophy life-and-death
A keener interest in trinkets of self-adornment than in people is a symptom of alienation.
Kōbō AbeIt would seem that marsupials are poor imitations of full-fledged mammals. Their inadequacy gives them a certain appeal; we’re touched by it.
Kōbō AbeStichwörter: animals
You don't need me. What you really need is a mirror. Because any stranger is for you simply a mirror in which to reflect yourself. I don't ever again want to return to such a desert of mirrors.
Kōbō AbeSo nothing will ever be written down again. Perhaps the act of writing is necessary only when nothing happens.
Kōbō AbeHe wanted to believe that his own lack of movement had stopped all movement in the world, the way a hibernating frog abolishes winter.
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