The snow on the distant mountains was soft and creamy, as if veiled in a faint smoke.
Yasunari KawabataWas this the bright vastness the poet Bashō saw when he wrote of the Milky Way arched over a stormy sea?
Yasunari KawabataThe labor into which a heart has poured its whole love--where will it have its say, to excite and inspire, and when?
Yasunari KawabataMots clés loving-your-fellow-man
Put your soul in the palm of my hand for me to look at, like a crystal jewel. I'll sketch it in words...
Yasunari KawabataMots clés writing
A child walked by, rolling a metal hoop that made a sound of autumn.
Yasunari KawabataMots clés childhood-games
The true joy of a moonlit night is something we no longer understand. Only the men of old, when there were no lights, could understand the true joy of a moonlit night.
Yasunari KawabataMots clés night-sky moonlight appreciation-of-nature
Along the coast the sea roars, and inland the mountains roar – the roaring at the center, like a distant clap of thunder.
Yasunari KawabataNow, even more than the evening before, he could think of no one with whom to compare her. She had become absolute, beyond comparison. She had become decision and fate.
Yasunari KawabataMots clés beauty
The baby understands that its mother loves it. [...] Words have their origin in baby talk, so words have their origin in love.
Yasunari KawabataMots clés words love writiting
I suppose even a woman's hatred is a kind of love.
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