Kaoru Quotes

In this world of memories, there's no need for strangers. -Kenshin to Kaoru

Mom! This is Haruhi! We'll adopt her someday so don't forget! ~Hikaru and Kaoru

Kaoru: Grownups are so tiresome. They fake their smiles all day long and they try to force us to do the same. It's no fun at all.

Kaoru." "Hikaru? How long have you been there? "Kaoru, how do you feel about Haruhi?" "She's a funny little tanuki." "You don't have to lie to me. Sorry that I didn't realize it until now. I know you've been worrying about me, but you don't have to lie anymore. You like Haruhi too, don't you?" "What are you talking about, Hikaru? I don't--" "Then how about this? You know we talked about adopting Haruhi. That's the best solution. That way the three of us will always be together." "Are you completely stupid, Hikaru? Adopting Haruhi was just a joke. We're not playing house. It'd never happen. I'm so fed up with your childishness!!" "Kaoru..." "Besides, would you be happy being a threesome forever? You really want to share Haruhi with me? That's not what I want!" "Kaoru...?" "I won't share her with you or milord! Especially... ... If your willing to just give her up like that! I'll never step aside for you if that's the case!

Hunny: So Hikaru is being Mr. Blind... while Tama obviously likes Haru, but he's too foolish to know it. Right, Takashi? Mori: Probably... Hunny: And then there's Kaoru and Kyoya. One of them is also unaware of his feelings. Do you think there'll be any progress before we graduate? Mori: I don't know...

If we are ever to meet once more shall we sing together and tell our tales? May all things good and wonderful be ever at your feet. May the bounty of fortune be ever at your feet. May the stars protect you by day and the moon by night.

Know the rules of child rearing!! Rule one: Physical strength! Rule two: Physical strength! There are no rules three or four, but rule five is physical strength!

Calligraphy is an art form that uses ink and a brush to express the very souls of words on paper.

I don’t like CDs,” he replies. “Why not?” “They’re too shiny.” Kaoru

Cause in Alphaville, you’re not allowed to have deep feelings. So there’s nothing like love. No contradictions, no irony. They do everything according to numerical formulas.” Kaoru wrinkles her brow. “‘Irony’?” “Irony means taking an objective or inverted view of oneself or of someone belonging to oneself and discovering oddness in that.

I, Kotoko Aihara... Now Kotoko Irie... have finally become Irie-kun's wife. And though this may seem like a happy ending, it is actually more of a happy beginning.

Uwaaaaahh! Why does taking off traditional clothing sound so suggestive?! --Kaoru Hanabishi

For a while, my self-control and my power of reason quailed to uselessness.

Kaoru... You keep talking about Hikaru. What about you? Aren't you hurting? I understand Hikaru's important to you... but how do you plan to protect others if you can't look out for yourself? You have to be honest. If you go on like this, Hikaru won't be happy either. So what do you want, Kaoru? Forget about Hikaru and Tama for a moment... What do *you* want?

It was as if he had two faces, one of utmost calm, one of furious action; and he wore both with ease. He was like the animal whose face he wore, able to sit in silence for hours, without moving a muscle, then flying like a raging storm into battle, returning again to perfect calm when the fight was over.

If we start to look into the nature of the relationship between time and the dynamics of social exchange, we quickly discover that temporal considerations are equally important as spatial ones when examining the causes of disjunction that can separate familiarization and alienation. Synchronization, it seems, is often in thrall to serendipity — temporal disjunction, like entropy, is one of the irresistible forces of nature.

An oppressive odor of decay now mingled with the stench of mold and seemed to clutch at the very breath in their lungs.

A weapon is merely a weapon, nothing more. What matters is how you use it.

I say we have no time for debate. Indeed, we have no need for it, since the decision has been made for us. We must fight. There is no other path!

Make a habit of discussing a problem on the basis of the data and respecting the facts shown by them.” - Dr Kaoru Ishikawa

IIf having people tell us apart is the first step towards independence, it's a simple thing. We just have to change the way we look on the outside. We should've done something like this sooner. We always blames other people for not being able to tell us apart...but maybe the reality is that we didn't put forth the effort so others could see the difference. If all we needed to do something as simple as this, I'm happy to do it. And if you want, Kaoru, I'm happy to have separate rooms too. But...nothing will ever change the fact that we are twins! I thought about it all night..and I remembered something Milord one said. Kaoru...you're wrong. It may be true that we can't continue on as we had before. Because if I'm dependent on you, nobody will take me seriously, least of all Haruhi. But to kill her emotions like this enforcer soaps to live separate lives isn't the only way to become independent, is it? Kaoru..we are twins. We share something very lucky and rare. It's called character. We may contradict ourselves but that's the way we are. Even the future, which most people alone face we face together. It's not a bad thing. From now on, we will influence each other and continue to grow individually.as long as we don't forget this or future will be many more times exciting that of most people. So we will remain close because if we don't do it be no point being born twins." -Hikaru

I'll bet they think they can leave you alone because you've really got it together." Mari does not respond to this remark. "But maybe sometimes you don't really have it together," Kaoru says. Mari gives her a slight frown. "What makes you think that?" "It's not a question of what I think. It's part of being nineteen years old. I used to be nineteen myself once. I know what it's like.

A plague rides on the air here. The smell of rot! This is Doal's realm. Can't you feel it? The keep is doomed, don't you see? No, I will not pass through this gate. There is a disease in there I will not touch.

The business of living is not in the least special. In a sense it all comes down to two things: eating and excreting. These activities are common to all life forms. Every creature on earth is born, through eating and excreting helps maintain the balance of the great chain of being, and dies. In the realm of nature, these activities are essential to the continuity of life, and they give value to each being's life. People are no different. If human life has meaning, it lies above all in the essential fact of our physical existence in this world. This is what I strongly believe.

Behind this lies not just impact or drama, but a typically Japanese tendency. The story of Pygmalion, the Greek myth — in which Pygmalion falls in love with the statue of a young woman that he creates and which is hen transformed into a human by Aphrodite who imbues it with life — represents a Western approach in which the statue represents the human body. In Japan, however, there is a unique predilection for dolls ... This can be interpreted as a decadent, necrophiliac erotic story but it can also be interpreted as a propensity for Japanese men to fall in love with figures. These men's desires are directed at the figure for the very reason that it is a doll. The overwhelming passivity of the doll is a reflection of the behavior of a certain type of Japanese man whose immaturity makes it very difficult for him to establish an equal relationship with a mature woman.

[Rinda] often worried how she might make the coward she saw [in Remus] into a brave warrior, and someday, a king -- a task which she felt was her responsibility. Rinda had not yet realized that sometimes courage is the same thing as folly and that sometimes a skepticism bordering on her blindness to her brother's strengths was a result of her own sensitivity.

Izima's elaborate stagings of these exotic murder scenes had their genesis through a series of processes, from inspirational idea through imagination, to intention, and then initiation. The ascendant 'i' here might well be symbolic of Izima's 'I,' or ego, as he both composes and conducts these visual compositions, the sole purpose of which is to transfix and seduce the viewer's 'eye.

Ever since you and I were boys of fifteen, I have been in countless battles, from skirmishes to giant wars that determined the fate of nations; if there is one thing I have learned from all that experience, Garanth, it is that battles are alive. Battles are living things. As with beasts, you must try to know them, you must handle them with care and some love, but you must never take your eyes off them, or they will go for your throat. Battles are wild beasts that can never be truly tamed, Garanth. You need both a whip and meat if you want them to turn on your foes and not yourself. The general . . . does not understand this.

Even a one-inch insect has half an inch of soul. It doesn't matter if people are going to forget the Sekiho Army. But I can't throw away my half-inch of life.

Cerca ya de medianoche, Mari, sentada sola a la mesa de un restaurante, se toma un café, fuma y lee. Un joven la interrumpe: es Takahashi, un músico al que ha visto una única vez, en una cita de su hermana Eri, modelo profesional. Ésta, mientras tanto, duerme en su habitación, sumida en un sueño profundo, «demasiado perfecto, demasiado puro». Mari ha perdido el último tren de vuelta a casa y piensa pasarse la noche leyendo en el restaurante; Takahashi se va a ensayar con su grupo, pero promete regresar antes del alba. Mari sufre una segunda interrupción: Kaoru, la encargada de un «hotel por horas», solicita su ayuda. Mari habla chino y una prostituta de esa nacionalidad ha sido brutalmente agredida por un cliente. Dan las doce. En la habitación donde Eri sigue sumida en una dulce inconsciencia, el televisor cobra vida y poco a poco empieza a distinguirse en la pantalla una imagen turbadora: una amplia sala amueblada con una única silla en la que está sentado un hombre vestido de negro. Lo más inquietante es que el televisor no está enchufado…

Karou, Akiva'nın gidişinin ardından yine aynı boşluğu hissetti. İçi buz kesti, iliklerine kadar ürperdi. Akiva'nın sıcaklığı ona bir armağan gibiydi ve o armağan birdenbire ondan alındığında, Kaoru sırtı pencereye dönük hiç kıpırdamadan durdu. Kızgındı. Çok kızgın. Ama bu çocukça bir öfkeydi. Akiva'nın göğsünü yumruklamak ve gücü tükendiğinde onun kolları arasına yığılmak istiyordu.

Day after day they’d waited for Ryoji to be taken away for his tests. Then in the brilliant light of day Kaoru would lay Reiko down on the bed, hike up her skirt, pull down her panties, and examine her sex organ. It was no more than one organ of the many that made up her body, but he found it inexplicably fascinating. His love for her had endowed it with inestimable value.

The images on the tape had not been created mechanically, by a television camera or any similar device. Instead, the individual responsible had utilized his or her own psychological power to project them directly onto the videotape. Psychic photography, “thoughtography”. Psychic power had imprinted those images onto a blank tape that had been left in the VCR by pure chance. The Loop was a closed world. Going strictly by the physical laws that obtained there, such a thing was not possible. That wasn’t the way the set-up worked. Kaoru began to feel as if he were watching a movie—a well-made one, to be sure, but based on some pretty juvenile premises.

I didn’t know you were there,” he said, and with no thought for his nakedness he grabbed Kaoru’s glass from him and gulped down its contents. What surprised Kaoru was not only that his father was completely unclothed, but that his genitalia was larger than it normally was. It was covered with some sort of thin bodily fluid, and it gleamed slickly. It always hung limply when Kaoru and his father were in the bath together. But now it arched and pulsed, exuding the confidence of having fulfilled its role as a part of its owner’s body. The whole time his father was drinking the mineral water, Kaoru couldn’t tear his gaze from it. “What’re you looking at? Jealous?

Kaoru glanced behind him, and then allowed his organ to tower in the direction of the window that might be there in space somewhere; allowed it to insist on its existence.

The stakes of the game were high if he continued. Kaoru wasn’t betting with something that could be easily replaced. It wasn’t just chips or money he was adding to the pot. He had his heart on the line. As fragile and finicky as it was, it was all he had to offer. Only a fool would look at an 8% possibility, and decide to wager his most precious possession on winning against the odds. But all skateboarders are fools, and Kaoru was about to prove that he was no exception.

From the beginning, self-annihilation has been an important task imposed on Zen monks in everyday discipline. To cast aside the ego means to cast aside your selfhood, determinedly reducing yourself to nothing, all the while revering and obeying your seniors and carrying out your daily chores in perfect silence.

Those bound up in the self are broken down unrelentingly at Eiheiji through name-calling and thrashing. All the baggage people bring with them—academic achievement, status, honor, possessions, even character—is slashed to bits, leaving them to sink to rock bottom and thus cast everything aside.

Without going into the history of Zen, let it be said that the relationship between master and disciple has always been fraught with peril. The hapless disciple is beaten with a stick, kicked, slapped on the head with his teacher's sandal. But to revile all such actions as violence is too hasty a conclusion. Before an act can be labeled violent, its underlying purpose must be ascertained. A little thought will show that in the context of Zen discipline, the fundamental purpose of a beating or thrashing is not to inflict injury or pain. Such acts are rather a means of conveying living truth from body to body and mind to mind, a form of spiritual training and cultivation.

Every time I was pummeled, kicked, or otherwise done over, I felt a sense of relief, like an artificial pearl whose false exterior was being scraped away—an exterior that previously I had struggled fiercely to protect, determined not to let it be damaged or broken. Now that it was gone and I had nothing left to cover up or gloss over, I knew that whatever remained, exposed for all to see, was nothing less than my true self. The discovery of my own insignificance brought instant, indescribable relief.

Soon after arriving, I realized that the life of an Eiheiji trainee was a never-ending succession of loud, angry tongue-lashings and beatings—a world away from my fond imaginings.

Among all the thinking that human beings do, the question "Why?" has always been predominant. Undoubtedly it has played an enormous role in helping to bring about what we call progress. But in the course of each day's round of activities at Eiheiji, the question "Why?" is virtually meaningless. Delving into the rationale for every single action would mean that nothing ever got done smoothly. What is essential is to accept without question what you are taught to do, and throw yourself into it entirely. There is no room for subjectivity.

The worlds we lived in were just too different to ever intertwine. Simple as that.

It's because it means so much to me that I didn't wan to share it with you.' 'Huh. Is that how being an artist works?' 'At least for me, it is.

I had to hurry. The world wasn't going to wait for me any longer.

I sat there in silence before her altar for a time, then lit a stick of incense and rang the little bell as I continued penning apology letters in my head, ones I knew would only ever be returned to sender.

My heart was so full up with pity, guilt. and regret that there wasn't room for a single iota of anger to enter the mix.

As a child, I'd heard it said that when you die, you turn into one of the billions of stars that light up the sky. If that was true, then I hoped Karen had found herself a nice, secluded corner of the universe from which she could watch meteor showers each and every day. I'd like that for her.

Sometimes just being alone with someone feels nice, even if there isn't anything to say.

If his men could have seen his young face under his faceplate, or if they could have heard the silent curses rolling off his tongue, they would have realized to their astonishment that their captain, only twenty years of age but already famous and formidable, was crying. Astrias's tears were tears of burning fury. The rage he felt that hour he would never forget for his whole life thereafter.