Goth Otsuichi Quotes

There are two kinds of humans: those who kill and those who are killed.

Her lack of outward expression was similar to the way a thermos is never hot on the outside: No matter what was going on inside, it never affected the surface.

Things that were merciless and cruel always captivated me. The conversations my classmates enjoyed and the warm words I exchanged with my family never really resonated with me. They were just static, like a radio that wasn't tuned properly.

God cannot be drawn or sculpted. The moment it is drawn, it is no longer God; the moment it is sculpted, God becomes a fake. The moment it is expressed, its divinity peels away and recedes from its true nature.

Tobacco kills a lot of people, but cigarette vending machines are killing that woman by stealing her job.

The reason I wanted her hands was because she had those beautiful scars, from when she had tried to kill herself.

I enjoyed watching people carry out unusual crimes.

There are people who kill, and people who get killed.

We were cruel, reptilian high school kids.

The killer had stepped over the line of ordinary life to destroy people physically, trampling their identity and dignity. Like inside a nightmare, we could not look away.

Human beings are liars. I knew that. Which is why I sought the face in death. The face with no forced smile, no performance, no deliberately composed expression.

I couldn't believe that the conversations my family had or the friendly attitudes of the people I knew were genuine. I was certain there had to be a script somewhere – and once, when I was very young, I searched the house for it. I wanted to read the same words everyone else was saying. But there was no script. The only thing that ever felt real to me was death.

I want to have her hands..! Morino's hands...

She knew nothing. Not that she might have died that day. Not that the person walking with her on that path in the woods was a murderer.

Will you teach me how to smile like that?

I spent nine years trying not to have any expressions, trying to be my sister. Now I can't smile, not even if I want to.

What does the kidnapper do with those things?" "Those things?" "You know, the stinky things with four legs that make a lot of noise." Did she mean the dogs?

When I can’t sleep, I always wrap something around my neck, close my eyes, and imagine myself being strangled to death. Then I can fall asleep – it feels like sinking deep underwater.

At the moment of death, all connections dying people have with the world around them are severed. Everything that bound them to those they loved, those they cared about, vanishes. They will never again see the sun, feel the wind, sense darkness or silence. Joy, grief, happiness, despair – they lose all connection to those things.

By understanding the value system the world preferred, remembering and feigning it, I was able to convince others that I was free of problems. I simply had to participate enthusiastically in the boring conversations my classmates were having.

It seemed self-evident that hands were the essence of humanity. That was why there were palm readers; palm readers said the lines on a person’s palms allowed them to determine an individual’s personality. Hands were mirror that reflected the person’s past and future.

My mother still made dinner. She cooked out of habit, as part of her routine, working mechanically. But when I saw the piles of dust in the corners, it made me want to cry.

I wanted to clap my hands over my ears to stop from hearing his voice. It was like he was climbing into my mind without even taking off his shoes.

I believe that death means ‘loss’.

My fear was actually the cause of my inability to trust people. Fear of being deceived. Fear of being lied to. My fear of people was stealing from me the freedom of thought.

He had drowned the boy underground with his own hands, but his twisted mind still had the nerve to feel grief over the loss. How horrifying.

You know, the stinky things with four legs that make a lot of noise.

The pieces of my sister's body. I stood there, letting the meaning of those words sink in.

Why? That one word was all I had to ask, but it was too late now. Why has I not worked up the courage to ask her while she was still alive? I might have regretted the answer I'd gotten, but it would have been better than this. But my sister had lost the chance to speak forever. I was stuck with my question, and it would be with me every time I thought of her.

Just as a vampire has no choice but to drink human blood, I have no choice but to kill people. My fate was already decided the moment I was born. I wasn’t abused by my parents and scarred mentally. I have no ancestors that were murderers. I was raised in a very ordinary household. But whereas ordinary children play alone with imaginary friends and pets, I spent my time staring at imaginary corpse.

Every little move the dog made had me guessing which direction it would go. I had been through many fights, so I was getting good at this. But my heart was always filled with sadness. How long was Yuka going to make me do this? I didn't really want to kill anything. All my life, I'd never thought my jaws were meant to be this used this way.

But when emotions get strong, humans have to do something. Some people encase their emotions by playing or exercising, whereas others calm their emotions by breaking things. People in the latter group could let their feelings out just by breaking furniture or the like. But Morino was unable to direct those feelings outward, so she'd directed them at herself.

Yuka could not fight that man, but I could become the fangs that would protect her.

What I saw there was my own death.

The name Yoru matches Morino’s black-clothed figure perfectly. Her commitment to the color is so great that I imagine if the darkness of night were given human form, then it might well look like her.

Morino and I found strange cases – and the people involved in them – darkly fascinating. Tragic human death ought to have torn our hearts in two – deaths so unfair that they made people want to scream. But we cut those articles out of newspapers, looking down the deep, dark well at the hearts of the people involved. Most people wouldn’t understand such interests – but it bewitched us like magic.

Just as a vampire has no choice but to drink human blood, I have no choice but to kill people. My fate was already decided the moment I was born. I wasn’t abused by my parents and scarred mentally. I have no ancestors that were murderers. I was raised in a very ordinary household. But whereas ordinary children play alone with imaginary friends and pets, I spent my time staring at imaginary corpses.

I'm not gonna die alone, no way! He will never allow it!

Every little move the dog made had me guessing which direction it would go. I had been through many fights, so I was getting good at this. But my heart was always filled with sadness. How long was Yuka going to make me do this? I didn't really want to kill anything. All my life, I'd never thought my jaws were meant to be used this way.

By understanding the value system the world preferred, remembering and feigning it, I was able to convince others that I was free of problems.