Riku Quotes

 If two people share one, their destinies become intertwined. They'll remain a part of each other's lives no matter what.

The heart may be weak. And sometimes it may even give in. But I've learned that deep down, there's a light that never goes out!

(Riku and Mickey walk towards DiZ, who stands at the middle of an intersection) Riku: What are you making me choose now? DiZ: Will you take the road to light — or the road to darkness? Riku: Neither. I'm taking the middle road. (Riku walks past DiZ) DiZ: You mean the twilit road to nightfall? (Riku turns around) Riku: No...The road to dawn.

There is an old saying to the effect that when an elderly person dies a library disappears.

There are two kinds of people in this world, I believe, those who frequent bookshops and those who do not.

On kai hyvin turkulaista ylpeillä kaupunkinsa historialla, vaikkei sen nykyisyydessä pystyisikään elämään.

We can't let fear stop us! I'm not afraid to the darkness!

Me oltiin yhdeksäntoista.” “Sun oli vielä pakko saada mut, Niklas.” “Ja ne puut.” “Puhutaan pieniä helppoja asioita.” “Joskus nämä oli helppoja.” “Tule vähän lähemmäs.

Riku, was harassed by scavengers wanting to buy her best dishes, worth about $200. One by one, she took the dishes out of their velvet jackets and smashed them at the men’s feet.

Non-fiction? I'm not keen on the word. No matter how much a writer tries to adhere to the truth, the notion of non-fiction is an illusion. All that can exist is fiction visible to the eye. And what is visible can also lie. The same applies to that which we hear and touch. Fictions that exist and fictions that don't exist- that's the level of difference, in my opinion.

I feel reassured that the world is full of books that people are steadily reading their way through. No matter how much information may be available, or how easy it is to come by, when all is said and done books can only be read by working one’s way through them, line by line, page by page.

Even if a person experiences enviable peaks of happiness, a fulfilled life, all happiness still carries with it the loneliness inherent in being human.

That was how I chose to deal with it. I felt I had no other choice.

Fear is a spice that lends credibility. Just the right amount sprinkled in any story makes it plausible.

It may just be an instant... a sudden flash of light! But it will burn so bright... so spectacular... and it will persevere so that it can shine for even one second longer! That is how we humans live!

If my life were a book, the thickest section, the one with the most dog-eared pages, would be the one about that case. The spine would be bent from being opened to those pages so often. And the book would always fall open to that place. That's how I see it.

Quite a few people became depressed once the crime was solved. It seemed so pointless. If the culprit had at least had a strong motive, it might have been easier to understand. Once it was all over, people felt as if they had been left in limbo. Yes, they did. Many people expressed doubt as to whether the man who committed suicide really was the culprit.

Čim je žito stovareno, opraštam se od Svete; on nastavlja put. Pozdravljamo se na čudnovat i neuobičajen način koji ovde, usred voćnjaka i gorostasne blizine Bezdeta, i sred mumlanja mlinskih kamenova i siktanja transmisionih kajiševa, i u reskom vazduhu propetom u beskraj, ima svoj neobjašnjiv ali potpun smisao. I ne samo to. To je jedini moguć, jedini iskren pozdrav ljudi čije su svesti opijene agresivnom prisutnošću prirode. Uzvikujemo jedan drugom nešto što najviše liči na neobjašnjivu riku životinja koje osećaju svoje prisustvo, i koje su zadovoljne što se ničim međusobno ne ugrožavaju, i koje su sretne što neugrožavane čine izvestan sklad koji je lišen svakog *estetskog* karaktera, koji je u tom trenutku veoma daleko od bilo kojih ljudskih kategorija, ali koji, van svake sumnje, predstavlja aktivan sklad fizičke snage, nastale iz združenosti: *povećana moć*. Gledamo se licem u lice, a ne videći se, ne zapažajući ni oči ni konture lica, zavijamo sred neke duboke, naglo razbuđene unutrašnje gladi koja hoće da nadjača tutanj mlinskih kamenova, kao da smo u nekom intuitivnom dosluhu sa mrcvarenim zrnevljem čiji smo najednom postali krik i poslednji izdisaj. A, u stvari, ne osećamo nikakav bol; samo se šakama udaramo po ramenima, naizmence, i ti tupi udarci kao da postaju dopuna zvucima što, gotovo neartikulisani, izviru iz naših razjapljenih vilica. Udaramo se prijateljski, i ne osećamo ispod šaka ništa definisano, ništa što je koža ili meso; to je samo nešto što se zove *materija*; toliko. Bejasmo zadovoljni što nam zamasi šaka podlivenih krvlju naleću na nešto čvrsto, nešto stabilno, u isto vreme i prisno, ali neznano šta.

Even after locking you away, here you are, haunting me again.

Because one dead leaves every material back, even the body, but what is taken is the soul with memories.

You are my crime . . . and my punishment.

You must be able to lead yourself before you can lead other people.

Green that verges on darkness.

That's why it's a mistake to believe it's realistic to think about surviving in a world that can't be understood.

So, it was finally time. All those who knew of the headmaster’s address feared it as the most powerful sleeping spell in existence, said to have lulled even a raging demonic beast to slumber.

I shoved Richard ahead of me as a shield. Don’t bother resisting; it’s my belief that hardships should be shared. Now stop struggling and let’s go die—ahem, try to sort this out. “S-Stop it, Allen! Th-Think of my lovely, lovely fiancée!” Richard begged.

That’s all for today’s lesson. I’ll be teaching you another three or four times, and beginning with our next lesson, I’ll be asking you to show me what you’re capable of. I wish you all good fortune in the battle to claim seats for lunch.

uncomfortably...persistent in their questions about my relationship with Tina and Ellie. They had lost their tempers when I said that I wouldn’t marry either girl, and then they had lost their tempers again when I had joked that I would.

the notion of non-fiction is an illusion. All that can exist is fiction visible to the eye. And what is visible can also lie. The same applies to that which we hear and touch. Fictions that exist and fictions that don’t exist – that’s the level of difference, in my opinion.

G-Grandma told me that ‘if you can win over a gentleman’s stomach, you’ll most likely crush the competition

You’re just like Lisa, you— Ow!” “You have some nerve, bringing up another woman,” she said after a tense pause. “Do you want to be incinerated?” “She’s your mother!” I protested.

when I saw drafts of the illustrations for the new characters, a devil whispered in my ear, “They sure are cute. Give them more appearances. Come on! Cut out the headmaster!” “No,” an angel pleaded to restrain me. “You’ll have to rewrite another chapter if you do that! At least make it the professor!” While the angel and devil met in single combat,

A pair of dark figures met me outside the door. “Mr. and Mrs. Walker.” “Mr. Allen,” they answered in unison, “if you want to lay your hands on Ellie, you’ll have to defeat us first!” Their love was a little overbearing. But as you can see, one of my hands is occupied with books, and— What? You’re still going to do this? I see. Very well. Good grief... As it turned out, they were both masters of close-quarters combat at a level that was rare even in the capital. ✽ “Allen, sir. Good mor— Wh-What happened to you?! You’ve hurt your face!

I decided to at least keep the real reason I had failed the court sorcerer exam to myself. If Lydia found out that I’d lost my temper and beaten the second prince to a pulp because he’d mocked her and insulted my family,

Lydia was quite tall, and she had kept growing after we started school together, so it had taken me a while to overtake her. It was one of the few areas in which I clearly surpassed her...the others being cooking, doing laundry, sewing, and putting people to bed.

They did indeed!” he affirmed. “The rookies on the ground there were calling you a—” “Repeat it and you won’t even live to see the moon rise tonight,” Lydia said,

If you die, I’ll kill you, and don’t you forget it.

I’m exercising my natural right as your little sister.

some things are no use if the other half is lost

I have my reasons,” I trepidatiously replied. “I wish you would get off of me.

I have a handpicked company of knights ready to go—forty-seven in all,” Richard said. “No eldest children, no one with a spouse, child, or fiancée, and no one injured.” Without changing his expression, he added, “Oh, and needless to say, I’ll be joining you.” “I seem to recall you being an eldest child and having a fiancée,” I responded with forced levity.

Anna had finally succeeded in luring my dear sister out of her room using the aroma of my dear brother’s homemade pancakes,

You’re my comrade, Wolf Pup,” she said. “So, what’s yours is mine. And what’s mine is mine.

Gil? B-But why? Why?!” “How should I know?! I just felt like it!” he snapped.

In our early days together we often gave each other gifts. CDs we liked, books, photographs, travel souvenirs, or cakes and other small delicacies. When people are in the process of becoming intimate they give each other things, all kinds of small, miscellaneous offerings. Every exchange leaves a mark of one's existence in the others world and gradually widens the scope of it. Thus by degrees we become special to each other. That's how we were supposed to be.

Walter, I took the same stance four years ago, and I’ve been losing ground ever since. Give up.” “Never!” Walter took a moment to calm himself.

John, someone from the royal family must fight. I’ll join the eastward march!

I am already out at sea. Floating in the water while gazing back at the innocent girl on dry sand who believes that she will never get wet. It won't be long. Any second now the wave will arrive to wash around her feet and strike terror into her heart. Then she will know. She will understand that a woman's place is in the sea. Where the acts of floundering, drowning and gulping mouthfuls of salty water while struggling to swim against the current are the true essence of our sex.

The highest form of human achievement was music. Human beings might have dirty, repulsive aspects to them, but out of the sordid swamp that was humanity - no, it was precisely because of this chaotic swamp - the beautiful lotus flower of music would bloom.

What a strange thing music was. It was just one small individual up there performing, and the notes created by those fingers were here one moment and gone the next. Yet what was there was almost the definition of the eternal. The wonderment of a living creature, with a finite life, creating the eternal. Through that fleeting, transient moment of music, one was in touch with eternity.

People labelled as geniuses had their own problems. No one knew how their life would work out. So many prodigies had been toyed with by fate. The world was littered with tragic, fallen stars.

What kind of job was it to be a musician? What sort of vocation was it, anyway? Vocation - that was the perfect word for it. It really was a calling, a living calling. It didn't fill your stomach, didn't last. To devote your life to something like that, the only way you could describe it was as a calling.

Music always had to be of the now. It couldn't just be something preserved in a museum, and it was meaningless unless it was alive in the present. If you were satisfied with merely unearthing a lovely fossil, then music became no more than a relic from the past.

That’s right. Sometimes people get caught up in events beyond their understanding. They get ambushed under the guise of chance. Things happen and it seems as if they’re in another world or dimension. When something like that occurs, nobody can explain what’s really going on… Well, of course they can’t.

Of course, human agency and contrivance are at the centre of this particular snowball, and probably repressed emotions have something to do with it as well, but I believe that terrible things – terrible beyond anything that humans could devise – can happen due to a series of circumstances coinciding with some kind of trigger. Such events are then presented to us in the form of a great calamity, as if to mock our puny human desires. Do you see what I mean? My feeling is that this crime was something like that.

When she – Hisako, that is – was questioned, she was confused at first, and apparently started talking about this room all of a sudden. No matter what the policewoman said to her, she’d only speak of things she had seen as a child. I can well believe it. She’d been alone and listening to her family dying all around her with no one to tell her what was going on. It must have been terrifying. Of all the people who lived in that house, only she had survived. Hisako Aosawa… She was in her first year of middle school at the time, so she would have been around twelve.

I enjoy rambling about old towns. Going to an unknown place and glimpsing the lives of strangers. Walking around an old city is like a journey through time. I get a lot of pleasure from discovering remnants of times past, like a milk box outside an old house or a retro enamel sign tacked to the wall of a tiny shop.

I don’t have any great ambitions for myself. It’s enough for me if the three of us can lead safe, healthy lives. A peaceful life is best. But such a modest ambition is becoming more and more difficult to achieve. People may try to live quiet, retiring lives, but things can happen. They might get caught up in a crime, or ill from food additives. The way society works or businesses operate can change in a flash, and even as you wish things would stay the same, a giant wave engulfs everything. It’s tragic when people think the wave won’t reach them but get swept away by it anyway. The wave takes everything with it, you hurt all over, and you’re left holding on to nothing.

Every person spoke in the sincere belief that what they said was the absolute truth, but if one thinks about it, it’s difficult to describe an actual event in words exactly as one sees it. More like impossible, in my opinion. Each person has their own idiosyncratic biases, visual impressions and tricks of memory that shape their perception, and when one also takes into consideration the individual knowledge, education and personality that influence each single viewpoint, one can see how infinite the possibilities are.

That’s how I came to believe that it’s impossible to ever really know the truth behind events. Once one accepts this, it follows that everything written in newspapers or textbooks as “history” is actually an amalgam of the greatest common factors from all the information available.

If there is no observer, the observed does not exist.

Yes, as time went by, I began to travel again in order to see things I had a fancy to see. Mind you, they didn’t necessarily exist in reality any more. My travels became a quest for the sources of memories, things that I had ostensibly seen before. Scenes from childhood, for example, or locations with nostalgic associations and the like.

But as I grew older, every time I saw an injustice or something I couldn't understand, I felt something surreptitiously stirring deep down inside, slowly working its way up from the depths. Over time this sense of unease built up and felt more solid. I don't remember what the trigger was, but one day I realized I had to do something about it. I knew I couldn't go on with life as usual until I'd removed that accumulation of uneasiness. If I didn't, I knew I'd suffocate.

But as I grew older, every time I saw an injustice or something I couldn't understand, I felt something surreptitiously stirring deep down inside, slowly working its way up from the depths. Over time this sense of unease built up and felt more solid. I don't remember what the trigger was, but one day I realized I had to do something about it. I knew I couldn't go on with life as usual until I'd removed that accumulation of uneasiness. If I didn't, I knew I'd suffocate.

Every person spoke in the sincere belief that what they said was the absolute truth, but if one thinks about it, it's difficult to describe an actual event in words exactly as one sees it. More like impossible, in my opinion. Each person has their own idiosyncratic biases, visual impressions and tricks of memory that shape their perception, and when one also takes into consideration the individual knowledge, education and personality that influence each single viewpoint, one can see how infinite the possibilities are.

After a bit she asked if I thought people’s dreams are connected. I told her that the dreams of people who are thinking about each other are. “Gosh, that’s nice,” she said.

No, it wasn’t because of the illness, she was stable by then. It was the past, coming back to torment her, that’s what. She had terrible memories. More than anyone should have to bear. The thought of them made her twist her face in agony.

I’ve received a request for assistance from the professor,” I said, inclining my head toward the headmaster. “He says, ‘I-I don’t need any more potential brides. I-I’ll collaborate on the decryption. H-Help!

The solution is simple,” she replied. “Stop reading at night.

The solution is simple,” she replied. “Stop reading at night.” “You might as well tell me to stop breathing.

Seeing her in glasses—too much time spent reading in bed had ruined her eyesight—was enough to pain a father’s heart.

The pair had forced an allowance on me ever since my return to the royal capital, and they would lecture me whenever I failed to spend it all. I hardly considered that reasonable.

Do you like scarlet?” It took me a moment to respond. “I am a man, you know.

you don’t need to compare yourself to other people.

you’re the only one who’s asked after my health! Not one of my students has! The worst of them has even attempted to force a...a bride on me!

several first-years had approached me to say things like, “Will you be teaching here again?” “Please tell me when your next lecture is going to be,

Some women do drag their pasts around, and I don't deny that I have that tendency too. But I usually keep that part of me closeted away in a separate room: the guest room, so to speak, where the guest can feel sorry for herself at leisure. Only occasionally do I invite her into the living room and allow her to wallow in self-pity to her heart's content.

Oh, that reminds me,” the professor continued, ignoring my misgivings. “Lydia is apparently in a foul mood. I’m told that she’s been all smiles at the palace.” All smiles? That meant danger—extreme danger. I ought to lock my doors and windows with care.

We go now not to save the royal capital,” the former duchess continued quietly. “Nor the eastern capital. We go to the aid of a single private tutor

I hope you understand that truth is nothing more than one view of a subject seen from a particular perspective.

Yes, people are indeed a mystery. The way they present themselves changes according to the place and person they are with.

There are some people who you can never understand, even if they are relatives, like parents, or children, or brothers and sisters. Is that wrong? Isn’t acknowledging that lack of understanding, and giving up, one kind of understanding? That’s the kind of thing I think about. But in this day and age, society doesn’t forgive those it doesn’t understand. To not be understood leaves you open to bullying, or gets you labelled suspicious. If you’re not convincing in the eyes of society it makes you vulnerable to attack. Everything has to be by the book – reduced and standardized. The reason for anger is, more often than not, simply lack of understanding.