Kokoro Quotes

I believe that words uttered in passion contain a greater living truth than do those words which express thoughts rationally conceived. It is blood that moves the body. Words are not meant to stir the air only: they are capable of moving greater things.

You seem to be under the impression that there is a special breed of bad humans. There is no such thing as a stereotype bad man in this world. Under normal conditions, everybody is more or less good, or, at least, ordinary. But tempt them, and they may suddenly change. That is what is so frightening about men.

I do not want your admiration now, because I do not want your insults in the future. I bear with my loneliness now, in order to avoid greater loneliness in the years ahead. You see, loneliness is the price we have to pay for being born in this modern age, so full of freedom, independence, and our own egotistical selves.

You see, loneliness is the price we have to pay for being born in this modern age, so full of freedom, independence, and our own egoistical selves.

...you don't really become a finer person just by reading lots of books.

It is not you in particular that I distrust, but the whole of humanity.

Like the first whiff of burning incense, or like the taste of one's first cup of saké, there is in love that moment when all its power is felt.

I am an inconsistent creature. Perhaps it is the pressure of my past, and not my own perverse mind, that has made me into this contradictory being. I am all too well aware of this fault in myself. You must forgive me.

On the whole, all people are good, or at least they're normal. The frightening thing is that they can suddenly turn bad when it comes to the crunch.

To tell you the truth, I used to consider it a disgrace to be found ignorant by other people. But now, I find that I am not ashamed of knowing less than others, and I'm less inclined to force myself to read books. In short, I have grown old and decrepit.

The memory of having sat at someone's feet will later make you want to trample him underfoot.

I am a lonely man,' Sensei said. 'And so I am glad that you come to see me. But I am also a melancholy man, and so I asked you why you should wish to visit me so often.

You have a fine scholar's way with words, I must say. You're good at empty reasoning.

From then on, my thesis hung over me like a curse, and with bloodshot eyes, I worked like a madman.

I often laughed, and you often gave me a dissatisfied look, till you pressed me to unfold my past before you as if it were a roll of pictures. It was then I felt respect for you. Because you unreservedly showed me your resolution to catch something alive in my being, and to sip the warm blood running in my body, by cutting my heart. At that time, I was still living, and did not want to die. So I rejected your request, promising to satisfy you some day. Now I am going to destroy my heart myself, and pour my blood into your veins. I shall be happy if a new life can enter into your bosom, when my heart has stopped beating.

What would you do," I said, "if I pushed you into the sea?" K did not move. Without looking back, he said: "That would be pleasant. Please do.

I felt for her a love that was close to pious faith. You may find it odd that I use a specifically religious word to describe my feelings for a young woman, but real love, I firmly believe, is not so different from the religious impulse. Whenever I saw her face, I felt that I myself had become beautiful.

Anyone without spiritual aspirations is a fool

But to my questions he gave replies so vague that one could not tell whether they came from the mountains or the sea.

Sometimes when I can no longer endure the strain, I beg him to tell me what is wrong with me and help me to correct it. Then he always says that I have nothing to correct, assuring me that it is he who is at fault. And I become sadder and sadder until I weep with the desire to know my fault.

We’ll fight this,’ her mother said, her voice trembling. ‘It might be a long battle, but let’s fight it. Let’s do it, Kokoro.

Now, I myself am about to cut open my own heart, and drench your face with my blood. And I shall be satisfied if, when my heart stops beating, a new life lodges itself in your breast.

I am a lonely man," he said again that evening. "And is it not possible that you are also a lonely person? But I am an older man, and I can live with my loneliness, quietly. You are young, and it must be difficult to accept your loneliness. You must sometimes want to fight it." "But I am not at all lonely." "Youth is the loneliest time of all. Otherwise, why should you come so often to my house?" Sensei continued: "But surely, when you are with me, you cannot rid yourself of your loneliness. I have not it in me to help you forget it. You will have to look elsewhere for the consolation you seek. And soon, you will find that you no longer want to visit me." As he said this, Sensei smiled sadly.

I believe that words uttered in passion contain a greater living truth than those words which express thoughts rationally conceived

I will not hesitate to cast upon you the shadow thrown by the darkness of human life. But do not be afraid. Gaze steadfastly into this darkness, and find there the things that will be of use to you.

Did you not come to me because you felt there was something lacking?' 'Yes. But my going to you was not the same thing as wanting to fall in love.

No matter how full one's head might be with the image of greatness, one was useless, I found out, unless one was a worthy man first.

But sick or well, humans are fragile creatures, you know. There's no anticipating how or when they might die, or for what reason

Just as you can only really smell incense in the first moments after it is lit, or taste wine in that instant of the first sip, the impulse of love springs from a single, perilous moment in time, I feel.

No matter how fierce was the passion that gripped him, the fact is he was paralyzed, transfixed by the contemplation of his own past. Only something so momentous as to drive from his consciousness all thoughts of before and after could have propelled him forward. And with his eyes fixed on the past, he had no choice but to continue along its trajectory.

I don't like argumentation. You men do it a lot, don't you? You seem to enjoy it. I'm always amazed at how men can go on and on, happily passing around the empty cup of some futile discussion

It's a shame that an education just gives people the means to chop logic

I thought of the new stone, of my new wife, and of the newly buried white bones beneath us, and I felt that fate had made sport of us all.

We who are born into this age of freedom and independence and the self must undergo this loneliness. It is the price we pay for these times of ours.

- I don't even trust myself. It's because I can't trust myself that I can't trust others. I can only curse myself for it. = Once you start thinking that way, then surely no one's entirely reliable. - It's not thinking that's led me here. It's doing, I once did something that shocked me, then terrified me

Who are we to judge the needs of another man’s heart?

Or perhaps, after all, our differences spring form the individual natures we were born with

The memory of having sat at someone’s feet will later make you want to trample him underfoot. I’m trying to fend off your admiration for me, you see, in order to save myself from your future contempt. I prefer to put up with my present state of loneliness rather than suffer more loneliness later. We who are born into this age of freedom and independence and the self must undergo this loneliness. It’s the price we pay for these times of ours.

Works that have a certain imperfection to them have an appeal for that very reason—or at least they appeal to certain types of people. Just like you’re attracted to Soseki’s The Miner. There’s something in it that draws you in, more than more fully realized novels like Kokoro or Sanshiro. You discover something about that work that tugs at your heart—or maybe we should say the work discovers you. Schubert’s Sonata in D Major is sort of the same thing.

But do you imagine there’s a certain type of person in the world who conforms to the idea of a ‘bad person'? You’ll never find someone who fits that mold neatly, you know. On the whole, all people are good, or at least they’re normal. The frightening thing is that they can suddenly turn bad when it comes to the crunch. That’s why you have to be careful.

Youth is the loneliest time of all.

Whenever I saw her face, I felt that I myself had become beautiful. At the mere thought of her, I felt elevated by contact with her nobility. If this strange phenomenon we call Love can be said to have two poles, the higher of which is a sense of holiness and the baser the impulse of sexual desire, this love of mine was undoubtedly in the grip of Love’s higher realm. Being human, of course, I could not leave my fleshly self behind, yet the eyes that beheld her, the heart that treasured thoughts of her, knew nothing of the reek of the physical.

In past summers when I had been home, I had often tasted a strange sadness as I sat quietly in the midst of the seething cicada song. This sorrow seemed to pierce deep into my heart along with the piercing insect cry. Always at such times I would sit alone and still, gazing into myself.

On the other hand, I would rather see it destroyed, with my life, than offer it to someone who does not want it.

His grin seemed to say, “It is, for some strange reason, considered proper to congratulate people on such occasions as this.

Now I am going to destroy my heart myself, and pour my blood into your veins. I shall be happy if a new life can enter into your bosom, when my heart has stopped beating.

There was a large crowd around us, and every face in it looked happy. We had little opportunity to talk until we reached the woods, where there were no flowers and no people.

I tried instead to drown my soul in drink. I cannot say I like alcohol, but I am someone who can drink if I choose to, and I set about obliterating my heart by drinking all I could. This was a puerile way out, of course, and it very quickly led to an even greater despair with the world. In the midst of a drunken stupor, I would come to my senses and realize what an idiot I was to try to fool myself like this. Then my vision and understanding grew clear, and I sat shivering and sober. There were desolate times when even the poor disguise of drunkenness failed to work, no matter how I drank. And each time I sought pleasure in drink, I emerged more depressed than ever.

My love for her was close to piety. You may think it strange that I should use this word, with its religious connotation, to describe my feeling towards a woman. But even now I believe—and I believe it very strongly—that true love is not so far removed from religious faith.

But the main reason for my immobility lay quite elsewhere. True enough, my uncle’s betrayal had made me fiercely determined never to be beholden to anyone again—but back then my distrust of others had only reinforced my sense of self. The world might be rotten, I felt, but I at least am a man of integrity. But this faith in myself had been shattered on account of K. I suddenly understood that I was no different from my uncle, and the knowledge made me reel. What could I do? Others were already repulsive to me, and now I was repulsive even to myself.

You see, loneliness is the price we have to pay for being born in this modern age, so full of freedom, independence, and our own egotistical selves.

To say that K did not guard himself well would be an understatement. In his innocence, he put himself completely at my mercy.

But is it not possible that there is yet another meaning hidden behind his words?" Unfortunately, I was unable to see things clearly then: it is sad to think how blind I was.

At the same time, I began to walk about the streets discontentedly, and to look around my room with a feeling that something was lacking in my life

presence

My hand may slip from lack of practice, but I do not believe my clumsy writing derives from an agitated mind.

The trouble with education,” said my father, “is that it makes a man argumentative.

But even now I believe—and I believe it very strongly—that true love is not so far removed from religious faith.

Finally, I became aware of the possibility that K had experienced loneliness as terrible as mine, and wishing to escape quickly from it, had killed himself. Once more, fear gripped my heart.

I finally couldn’t stand it anymore and said to him, ‘If there’s any fault in me, then please tell me honestly. If I can correct it, I will.’ And he replied, ‘You don’t have any fault. The fault is in me.’ When I heard that, it made me unbearably sad. It made me cry. And I longed more than ever to know how I might be to blame.

But I insist that I was not being vindictive. I confess to you that what I was trying to do was far more cruel than mere revenge. I wanted to destroy whatever hope there might have been in his love for Ojosan.

Let us not argue. You men certainly will argue about anything, and with such obvious pleasure too. I have often wondered how it is that you men can, without becoming bored, forever exchange empty saké cups with one another." Her words, I thought, were a little harsh. But they did not seem offensive to me. Sensei's wife was not so modern a woman as to take pride and pleasure in being able to display her mental prowess. She valued far more that thing which lies buried in the bottom of one's heart.

He had never disliked me, and the occasional curt greetings and aloofness were not expressions of displeasure intended to keep me at bay. I pity him now, for I realize that he was in fact sending a warning, to someone who was attempting to grow close to him, signaling that he was unworthy of such intimacy. For all his unresponsiveness to others' affection, I now see, it was not them he despised but himself.

Sensei would be far more unhappy without me. Why, he might not even want to go on living, without me. It may seem very conceited of me, but I do really believe that I am able to make him as happy as is humanly possible. I believe that no one else would be able to make him as happy as I can. Without this belief I would not be as contented as I am

I don't even trust myself. And not trusting myself, I can hardly trust others. There is nothing that I can do, except curse my own soul.

неведомая страшная сила, препятствовавшая каждому моему движению, оставляла мне свободным только один путь — путь смерти.

Is it not because women are so trusting that they are constantly being deceived by men?

You must remember that there is guilt in loving.

It’s a crime not to make the best use of whatever ability one has.

You have never thought seriously of the reality of death, have you?

I pity him now, for I realize that he was in fact sending a warning, to someone who was attempting to grow close to him, signaling that he was unworthy of such intimacy. For all his unresponsiveness to others’ affection, I now see, it was not them he despised but himself.

But once I could look back on it in a calmer frame of mind, it struck me that his motive was surely not so simple and straightforward. Had it resulted from a fatal collision between reality and ideals? Perhaps—but this was still not quite it. Eventually, I began to wonder whether it was not the same unbearable loneliness that I now felt that had brought K to his decision.

Under normal conditions, everybody is more or less good, or, at least, ordinary. But tempt them, and they may suddenly change. That is what is so frightening about men. One must always be on one’s guard.

I finally tired of my own inability to decide whether I would speak to K or remain silent. It was, I remember, on a Saturday night that I told myself: "Tomorrow, I will make up my mind one way or the other.

kaze wa tamashii wo sarai hito wa kokoro ubau daichi yo amekaze yo ten yo hikari yo koko ni subete wo todomete koko ni subete wo todome koko de ikite tamashii wo kokoro wo ai yo omoe yo koko ni kaerie koko ni todomatte

I used to consider it a disgrace to be found ignorant by other people. But now, I find that I am not ashamed of knowing less than others, and I am less inclined to force myself to read books. In short, I have grown old and decrepit.

I may be simply repeating what has always been known, but I do believe that for love to grow there must first be the impact of novelty. Between two people who have always known each other, that necessary stimulus. can never be felt. Like the first whiff of burning incense, or like the taste of one's first cup of saké, there is in love that moment when all its power is felt. There may be fondness, but not love, between two people who have come to know each other well without ever having grasped that moment.

That K was hesitant in love does not mean that his love was in any sense lukewarm. He was unable to move, despite the violence of his emotion. And since the impact of his new emotion was not so great as to allow him to forget himself, he was forced to look back and remind himself of what his past had meant. And in doing so he could not but continue along the path that he had so far followed.

Déjame de ilusión morir, déjame de ilusión penar, prefiero vagar por el mundo, a quedarme y en ti pensar, ese cruel pensamiento, que sólo transmite amargura, al borde de la locura me tiene, caro me costó el quererte, pero es más cara la locura, ya que remedio no tiene, ni nadie a mí esto me cura. © Kokoro

Along the way my eyes drank in the vivid sight of a citrus hedge, its white buds bursting forth from the blackened branches, and a pomegranate tree, the glistening yellowish leaves sprouting from its withered trunk and glowing softly in the sunlight. It was as if I were seeing such things for the first time.

I want both the good and bad things in my past to serve as an example to others. But my wife is the one exception—I do not want her to know about any of this. My first wish is that her memory of me should be kept as unsullied as possible. So long as my wife is alive, I want you to keep everything I have told you a secret—even after I myself am dead.

Incluso aquí, conmigo, es probable que te sientas solo. Yo no tengo la fuerza suficiente para agarrar tu soledad y expulsarla de ti.

I decided to leave the piece of ice out in the sun, and wait until it had melted and turned into warm water. Then, I thought, he would begin to see the error of his ways.

What this feeling produced was, quite simply, a keen awareness of the nature of human sin. That is what sent me back each month to K’s grave. It is also what lay behind the nursing of my dying mother-in-law, and what bade me treat my wife so tenderly. There were even times when I longed for some stranger to come along and flog me as I deserved. At some stage this feeling transformed into a conviction that it should be I who hurt myself. And then the thought struck me that I should not just hurt myself but kill myself. At all events, I resolved that I must live my life as if I were already dead.

You revealed a shameless determination to seize something really alive from within my very being. You were prepared to rip open my heart and drink at its warm fountain of blood. I was still alive then. I did not want to die. And so I evaded your urges and promised to do as you asked another day. Now I will wrench open my heart and pour its blood over you. I will be satisfied if, when my own heart has ceased to beat, your breast houses new life.

I have no great explanation for it, but one thing I can say: works that have a certain imperfection to them for that very reason - or at least they appeal to certain types of people. Just like you're attracted to Soseki's The Miner. There's something in it that draws you in, more than more fully realized novels like Kokoro or Sanshiro. You discover something about that work that tugs at your heart - or maybe we should say that the work discovers you.

You are like a man in a fever. When that fever passes, your enthusiasm will turn to disgust. Your present opinion of me makes me unhappy enough. But when I think of the disillusionment that is to come, I feel even greater sorrow.

I have no great explanation for it, but one thing I can say: works that have a certain imperfection to them have an appeal for that very reason - or at least they appeal to certain types of people. Just like you're attracted to Soseki's The Miner. There's something in it that draws you in, more than more fully realized novels like Kokoro or Sanshiro. You discover something about that work that tugs at your heart - or maybe we should say that the work discovers you.

This was the first time I actually privately respected you. You revealed a shameless determination to seize something really alive from within my very being. You were prepared to rip open my heart and drink at its warm fountain of blood. I was still alive then. I did not want to die. And so I evaded your urgings and promised to do as you asked another day. Now I will wrench open my heart and pour its blood over you. I will be satisfied if, when my own heart has ceased to beat, your breast houses new life.

Чувствовать, когда принимаешься за учение, что на тебе лежит что-то огромное, что вступаешь на новый путь, свойственно всем; точно также дело обычное — по прошествии года или двух, когда уж дело близится к окончанию курса, вдруг обнаружить, как медленно двигаешься по этому пути, и пасть духом.

I was saddened by the thought that she, whom I loved and trusted more than anyone else in the world, could not understand me. And the thought that I had not the courage to explain myself to her made me sadder still. I was very lonely. Indeed, there were times when I felt that I stood completely alone in this world, cut off from every other living person.

Though I had resolved to live as if I were dead, my heart would at times respond to the activity of the outside world, and seem almost to dance with pent-up energy. But as soon as I tried to break my way through the cloud that surrounded me, a frighteningly powerful force would rush upon me from I know not where, and grip my heart tight, until I could not move. A voice would say to me: "You have no right to do anything. Stay where you are." Whatever desire I might have had for action would suddenly leave me. After a moment, the desire would come back, and I would once more try to break through. Again, I would be restrained. In fury and grief I would cry out: "Why do you stop me?" With a cruel laugh, the voice would answer: "You know very well why." Then I would bow in hopeless surrender.

Когда я теперь оглядываюсь на себя в ту пору и думаю, почему я не родился более дурным, меня берёт досада за мою чрезмерную прямоту и честность в то время. Но в то же время у меня возникает желание как-нибудь ещё раз родиться на свет именно таким. Вспомните! Ведь тот я, которого вы знаете, был уже испачкан грязью. Если старшими зовутся те, за кем числится больше загрязнённых лет, то я, несомненно, старше вас.

Byłem młodzieńcem dość prostodusznym, nie mającym doświadczenia w obcowaniu z kobietami. Czułem, co prawda, instynktowną niejasną tęknotę do płci odmiennej. Ale było to odczucie tak mgliste jak marzenie senne, podobne do wspomnień budzących się w chwili, gdy patrzymy na wiosenne chmury. Dlatego też ulegało nagłej przemianie z chwilą, gdy stawałem przed rzeczywistą kobietą, która - zamiast mnie pociągać - odpychała wzbudzając silną niechęć.

The memory that you once sat at my feet will begin to haunt you and, in bitterness and shame, you will want to degrade me. I do not want your admiration now, because I do not want your insults in the future. I bear with my loneliness now, in order to avoid greater loneliness in the years ahead. You see, loneliness is the price we have to pay for being born in this modern age, so full of freedom, independence, and our own egoistical selves.

The memory that you once sat at my feet will begin to haunt you and, in bitterness and shame, you will want to degrade me. I do not want your admiration now, because I do not want your insults in the future. I bear with my loneliness now, in order to avoid greater loneliness in the years ahead. You see, loneliness is the price we have to pay for being born in this modern age, so full of freedom, independence, and our own egotistical selves.

Now at last, after Sensei’s passing, I’ve begun to understand. From the very start, Sensei never disliked me. His occasional curt reply or cool demeanor were neither expressions of displeasure nor intent to drive me away. Sensei, wretched in his own being, was wont to hold others at arm’s length. Believing himself unworthy, he fended off all who approached too near. Sensei’s aversion to intimacy, rather than rising from disdain for others, was rooted in disdain for himself.

Мабуть, пам'ятаєш, як ти часто сперечався зі мною про сучасні ідеї. І, мабуть, добре знаєш моє ставлення до них. Я не ганив твоїх поглядів, але й не знаходив у душі поваги до них. Твої міркування не мали виразного тла, та й ти замолодий, щоб мати своє минуле. Іноді я сміявсь. А часом бачив, що ти невдоволений. Врешті ти почав наполягати, щоб я розкрив перед тобою власне минуле, як книжку з малюнками. Тоді я вперше відчув повагу до тебе. Бо ти безоглядно засвідчив свою рішучість вихопити з моєї душі щось живе. Хотів розпанахати моє серце й сьорбнути теплої крови. Тоді я ще був живий. І не хотів умирати. Тому я відповів: хай колись. Тепер же я сам розпанахую своє серце і його кров'ю хлюпаю в твоє лице. Буду радий, якщо в годину, коли перестане битися моє серце, в твоїх грудях зажевріє нове життя.

В ту мить я сподівався трохи теплішого слова, бо гадав, що ми вже щирі приятелі. А така суха відповідь трохи присадила мою впевненість. Мене потім ще не раз доводила до розпачу така поведінка Сенсея. Часом він завважував це, а часом ні. І хоч я часто впадав у розпач, та й гадки не мав одійти від Сенсея. Радше навпаки — щоразу бував збентежений, мені ще більше кортіло піти до Сенсея. Гадав, як невідступно йти чимраз далі й далі, то колись неодмінно сповняться всі мої сподівання. Я був ще юний, але не хотів коритись іншим. Та не міг збагнути, чому поводжуся так тільки з Сенсеєм. Аж нині, коли вже Сенсея не стало, я все збагнув. Із самого початку нашого знайомства він не мав до мене неприязні. Його інколи мовби холодне і байдуже ставлення не йшло від бажання триматися від мене на відстані. Він, бідолаха, хотів тим сказати, що не вартий такого приятельства. Не відповідав на приязнь інших, бо, мабуть, був з тих людей, що спочатку зневажають себе, а вже потім когось іншого.

Pewnego dnia w sezonie oglądania kwiatów wiśni wybrałem się z Senseiem do parku Ueno. Zobaczyliśmy tam uroczą młodą parę. Oboje szczęśliwi, przytuleni do siebie spacerowali pod ukwiecionymi drzewami. Ponieważ działo się to w miejscu publicznym, wielu ludzi - zamiast oglądać kwiaty - zwracało wzrok w ich stronę i przypatrywało im się uważnie. - Wyglądają jak nowożeńcy - rzekł Sensei. - Bardzo im chyba ze sobą dobrze - odpowiedziałem. Sensei nawet się nie uśmiechnął. Specjalnie, aby nie widzieć tej pary, skierował się w przeciwną stronę. A następnie zapytał: - Czy byłeś już kiedyś zakochany? Odpowiedziałem, że nie. - A czy nie chciałbyś się zakochać? Nic nie odpowiedziałem. - Nie twierdzisz chyba, że nie chciałbyś? - Nie. - Zadrwiłeś sobie z tej młodej pary, prawda? Lecz w tej drwinie zabrzmiała nuta niezadowolenia. Pragniesz miłości, ale jej nie znajdujesz. - Czy tak to zabrzmiało? - Oczywiście. Ten, kto by sam zaznał szczęścia miłości, mówiłby o tych dwojgu cieplej. Ale... słuchaj, miłość jest zbrodnią! Czy ty tego nie rozumiesz? Zaskoczył mnie. Nie odpowiedziałem nic.