Sweet Bean Paste Quotes

All experience adds up to a life lived as only you could. I feel sure the day will come when you can say: this is my life.

I began to understand that we were born in order to see and listen to the world. And that's all this world wants of us. It doesn't matter that I was never a teacher or a member of the workforce, my life had meaning.

If all you ever see is reality, you just want to die. The only way to get over barriers, she said, is to live in the spirit of already being over them.

If I were not here, this full moon would not be here. Neither would the trees. Or the wind. If my view of the world disappears, then everything that I see disappears too. It’s as simple as that.

It’s my belief that everything in this world has its own language. We have the ability to open up our ears and minds to anything and everything. That could be someone walking down the street, or it could be the sunshine or the wind.

When I hear stars whispering at night I feel part of the eternal flow of time.

Some lives are all too brief, while others are a continual struggle. I couldn’t help thinking that it was a brutal assessment of people’s lives to employ usefulness to society as a yardstick by which to measure their value.

That's why I made confectionery. I made sweet things for all those who lived with the sadness of loss. And that's how I was able to live out my life.

She said that was the only way for us to live, to be like the poets.

I know you may not be able to hear anything now, even if you try, but please don't give up. I fee sure that one day you will find whatever it is you seek, and that the spark that leads to it will come from hearing some kind of voice. People's lives never stay the same colour forever. There are times when the colour of life changes completely.

It's just good hospitality,' Tokue countered. ‘For the customers?' ‘No. The beans.' ‘The beans?' ‘Because they came all the way from Canada. For us.

Are you telling me to fire someone who’s not sick, just because she was in the past?

We were born in order to see and listen to the world.’ It’s a powerful notion, with the potential to subtly reshape our view of everything.

She said that was the only way for us to live, to be like the poets. That's what she said. If all you ever see is reality, you just want to die. The only way to get over barriers, she said, is to live in the spirit of already being over them.

The pain also gets to you. That was another thing. It goes on and on, and some people choose to die. I thought I'd reached my limit. But for some reason I survived. And then Toku said to me, let's make confectionery. We'll keep going together, she said.

I try to live a blameless life, but am crushed at times by peoples’ lack of understanding. Sometimes you just have to use your wits.

In the midst of darkness and a struggle we had no hope of winning, I held on to this one thing – the fact of our humanity – and I was proud of it.

It's my belief that everything in this world has it's own language.

I don’t want to disappoint you, but Toku herself said at the time that she couldn’t actually hear the voices of beans. But if you live in the belief that they can be heard, then someday you might be able to hear them. She said that was the only way for us to live, to be like the poets. That’s what she said. If all you ever see is reality, you just want to die. The only way to get over barriers, she said, is to live in the spirit of already being over them.

We were born in order to see and listen to the world.

When I was little I didn't have any special dream about what I wanted to do when I grew up. It was wartime, and we were all more preoccupied by a vague kind of anxiety about simply staying alive.

I Listened to the birds that visited Tenshoen, and the insects, trees, grass and flowers. To the wind, rain and light. And to the moon. I believe they all have voices. I can easily spend a whole day Listening to them. When I am in the woods at Tenshoen the whole world is there too. When I hear stars whispering at night I feel part of the eternal flow of time.

I remember it clearly. It was a night of the full moon, and I was walking alone in the woods. By then I had already begun Listening to the whispers of trees, and to the voices of insects and birds. On this night, the moon cast its pale, brilliant light on everything around me, and energy seemed to radiate from trees swaying in the wind. While I was alone on that path in the woods, I came face-to-face with the moon. And oh, what a beautiful moon it was! I was enchanted. It made me forget everything I had suffered ... The next thing, I thought I heard a voice that sounded very much like the moon whispering to me. It said: I wanted you to see me. That's why I shine like this. From then on I began to see everything differently. If I were not here, this full moon would not be here. Neither would the trees. Or the wind. If my view of the world disappears, then everything that I see disappears too. It's as simple as that. ...This idea changed me. I began to understand that we were born in order to see and listen to the world. And that's all this world wants of us. My life had meaning.

I suppose that rumours must have spread about me, and you are probably still having a hard time as a result. If that’s the case, I made a mistake in not quitting sooner than I did. I try to live a blameless life, but am crushed at times by peoples’ lack of understanding. Sometimes you just have to use your wits. That’s something else I should have told you.

It was too late. By the time I was told that I could go out into society for the first time in decades and start over, it was much too difficult. If I had become free twenty years earlier I might have managed to start a new life outside. There were many of us like that, in our sixties and seventies, for whom it was too late. We discovered that once we experienced the joy of being out in the world and free again, the greater the happiness, the more we felt the pain of lost time and lives that could never be returned.

And there was something else too, something far more important to Sentaro: Tokue’s sweet bean paste. He was determined to carry on making it, because if he did not, it would disappear from the world. Apart from its merits as bean paste, Sentaro thought of it as testimony to the life of a remarkable woman called Tokue Yoshii.

If all you ever see is reality, you just want to die. The only way to get ove barriers, she said, is to live in the spirit of already being over them.

It’s up to you now – just do what you want. Have confidence in yourself.

there will be a time when you can stand tall as yourself in your own unique way.

The beans did their best.

Time had passed quickly while they poured out their grief. The sun’s rays were now infused with a deep red radiance that played over the grass.

People's lives never stay the same colour forever. There are times when the colour of life changes completely.

I first entered the sanatorium, then ten years later, twenty years later, thirty years later, and now I'm approaching the end, I can see how different the colour of my days were at each stage.

If I were not here, this full moon would not be here. Neither would the trees. Or the wind. If my view of the world disappears, then everything that I see disappears too. It’s as simple as that. I began to understand that we were born in order to see and listen to the world. And that’s all this world wants of us. It doesn’t matter that I was never a teacher or a member of the workforce, my life had meaning.

I can’t tell you how many times I wished I were dead. Deep down, I believed that a life has no value if a person is not a useful member of society. I was convinced that humans are born in order to be of service to the world and to others.

I can't tell you how many times I wished I were dead. Deep down, I believed that a life has no value if a person is not a useful member of society. I was convinced that humans are born in order to be of service to the world and to others.

One thing I can do in Tenshoen is sniff the wind and listen to the murmur of the trees. I pay attention to the language of things in this world that don’t use words. That’s what I call Listening, and I’ve been doing it for sixty years now.

When the law changed, for one happy moment we all thought we could go home. But more than a dozen years have passed since then and almost no one has come forward to take us back. The world hasn’t changed. It’s just as cruel as it always was.

Devine punishment, they called it. Some people even said it was punishment for sins in a previous life, you know. If somebody got it, the police and public-health officials were called in, and then there’d be full-on disinfecting. It was awful for families too they were made to feel terribly ashamed.

I know you may not be able to hear anything now, even if you try, but please don’t give up. I feel sure that one day you will find whatever it is you seek, and that the spark that leads to it will come from hearing some kind of voice. People’s lives never stay the same colour forever. There are times when the colour of life changes completely.

I know you may not be able to hear anything now, even if you try, but please don't give up. I feel sure that one day you will find whatever is it you seek, and that the spark that leads to it will come from hearing some kind of voice. People's lives never stay the same colour forever. There are times when the colour of life changes completely.

When I was little I didn't have any special dream about what I wanted to do when I grew up. It was wartime, and we were all more preoccupied by a vague kind of anxiety about simply staying alive. But after I became ill and realized that I would never be able to go out into society again, I started dreaming about what I wanted to be which was hard.

Kami gembira karena bisa berjalan di dunia luar. Namun, semakin besar kegembiraan itu, semakin besar pula kesedihan yang menyerang, mengingat waktu yang telah terenggut dari kami, dan kehidupan yang tak akan pernah kembali. Apakah kau bisa mengerti perasaan ini? Sepulang dari bepergian, semua orang yang ada di sini akan berwajah kelelahan. Bukan hanya lelah secara fisik, mereka juga merasakan kepedihan yang tidak akan sirna.

Because this tea kaiseki would be served so soon after breakfast, it would be considerably smaller than a traditional one. As a result, Stephen had decided to serve each mini tea kaiseki in a round stacking bento box, which looked like two miso soup bowls whose rims had been glued together. After lifting off the top dome-shaped cover the women would behold a little round tray sporting a tangle of raw squid strips and blanched scallions bound in a tahini-miso sauce pepped up with mustard. Underneath this seafood "salad" they would find a slightly deeper "tray" packed with pearly white rice garnished with a pink salted cherry blossom. Finally, under the rice would be their soup bowl containing the wanmori, the apex of the tea kaiseki. Inside the dashi base we had placed a large ball of fu (wheat gluten) shaped and colored to resemble a peach. Spongy and soft, it had a savory center of ground duck and sweet lily bulb. A cluster of fresh spinach leaves, to symbolize the budding of spring, accented the "peach," along with a shiitake mushroom cap simmered in mirin, sake, and soy. When the women had finished their meals, we served them tiny pink azuki bean paste sweets. David whipped them a bowl of thick green tea. For the dry sweets eaten before his thin tea, we served them flower-shaped refined sugar candies tinted pink. After all the women had left, Stephen, his helper, Mark, and I sat down to enjoy our own "Girl's Day" meal. And even though I was sitting in the corner of Stephen's dish-strewn kitchen in my T-shirt and rumpled khakis, that soft peach dumpling really did taste feminine and delicate.

Subect: Sigh. Okay. Since we're on the subject... Q. What is the Tsar of Russia's favorite fish? A. Tsardines, of course. Q. What does the son of a Ukranian newscaster and a U.S. congressman eat for Thanksgiving dinner on an island off the coast of Massachusetts? A.? -Ella Subect: TG A. Republicans. Nah.I'm sure we'll have all the traditional stuff: turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes. I'm hoping for apple pie. Our hosts have a cook who takes requests, but the island is kinda limited as far as shopping goes. The seven of us will probably spend the morning on a boat, then have a civilized chow-down. I predict Pictionary. I will win. You? -Alex Subect: Re. TG Alex, I will be having my turkey (there ill be one, but it will be somewhat lost among the pumpkin fettuccine, sausage-stuffed artichokes, garlic with green beans, and at least four lasagnas, not to mention the sweet potato cannoli and chocolate ricotta pie) with at least forty members of my close family, most of whom will spend the entire meal screaming at each other. Some will actually be fighting, probably over football. I am hoping to be seated with the adults. It's not a sure thing. What's Martha's Vineyard like? I hear it's gorgeous. I hear it's favored by presidential types, past and present. -Ella Subject: Can I Have TG with You? Please??? There's a 6a.m. flight off the island. I can be back in Philadelphia by noon. I've never had Thanksgiving with more than four or five other people. Only child of two only children. My grandmother usually hosts dinner at the Hunt Club. She doesn't like turkey. Last year we had Scottish salmon. I like salmon,but... The Vineyard is pretty great. The house we're staying in is in Chilmark, which, if you weren't so woefully ignorant of defunct television, is the birthplace of Fox Mulder. I can see the Menemsha fishing fleet out my window. Ever heard of Menemsha Blues? I should bring you a T-shirt. Everyone has Black Dogs; I prefer a good fish on the chest. (Q. What do you call a fish with no eyes? A. Fish.) We went out on a boat this afternoon and actually saw a humpback whale. See pics below. That fuzzy gray lump in the bumpy gray water is a fin. A photographer I am not. Apparently, they're usually gone by now, heading for the Caribbean. It's way too cold to swim, but amazing in the summer. I swear I got bumped by a sea turtle here last July 4, but no one believes me. Any chance of saving me a cannoli? -A

Starting with the chocolate version, I swap out some of the cocoa powder with melted bittersweet chocolate and add some sour cream for balance and moistness, as well as some instant espresso powder, my secret ingredient for anything chocolate, which doesn't so much make something taste like coffee, but rather just makes chocolate taste more chocolaty. While the chocolate cupcakes are baking, I turn my attention to the vanilla recipe, adding some vanilla bean paste to amp up the vanilla flavor and show off those awesome little black-speck vanilla seeds, and mixing some buttermilk into the batter to prevent it from being overly sweet and unbalanced. The banana version uses very ripe bananas that I've been stashing in the freezer, as well as a single slice of fresh banana that has been coated in caramel and is pushed halfway into each cup of batter for a surprise in the middle of the cupcakes. Herman's frostings are close to the frostings of my youth, simple faux buttercreams made with softened butter and confectioners' sugar. Nothing fancy. In my newer versions, the chocolate gets melted chocolate and chocolate milk mixed in, the vanilla gets more vanilla bean paste and a tiny hit of lemon zest, and the peanut butter gets a blend of butter and cream cheese for some tang.

Wasanbon sugar, honey and tofu. Together, they make a silky-smooth pastry crust that gently caresses the lips... while the fluffy, sticky white bean paste melts on the tongue. Its mellow and robust flavor wafting up to tickle the nose! And with every bite, the crisp tartness of apples pop like fireworks, glittering brightly and fading, only to sparkle once again. Its sweet deliciousness ripples from the mouth straight up to the brain... a super-heavyweight punch of moist, rich goodness!" "Yeeah!" "Ladies and gentlemen, all the judges have looks on their faces! What on earth could have created a flavor that rapturous?!" "The biggest secret to that flavor is right here, brushed on the underside of the pastry crust... apple butter!" "Apple butter?!" "Hmm..." It's as simple as its name- grated apple, lemon juice and sugar added into melted butter. The distinctive tang of fruit is melded together harmoniously with mellow butter, creating a spread that can add acidity, saltiness and rich body to a dish! "Yet making something like this is no mean feat! Two completely disparate ingredients must be not just mixed but perfectly emulsified together! It's a task akin to perfectly melding oil with water! Even pro chefs have difficulty bringing out the butter's smooth shine without accidentally letting it separate! Managing it all requires mastery of a very specific cooking technique!" "Yes, sir! I did use Monter au Beurre. It's a technique for finishing sauces... ... common in French cooking!

Vegetable One-Pot INGREDIENTS for 4 servings 1 zucchini, sliced 2 tbsp olive oil Salt and black pepper to taste 2 tomatoes, chopped ½ lb green beans ½ lb sweet potatoes, cubed ¼ cup fresh parsley, chopped 2 carrots, chopped 1 garlic paste 1 onion, chopped DIRECTIONS and total time: approx. 35 minutes Heat olive oil on Sauté and cook onion, zucchini, carrots, and garlic for 5 minutes. Add in the remaining ingredients, except for parsley, and 1 cup of water. Seal the lid, select Manual, and cook for 10 minutes at High. When done, release the pressure naturally for 10 minutes. Sprinkled with parsley and serve.

But who or what would want to torment a girl of only fourteen for the rest of her life? The thought was oppressive. Of course…it had to be the gods who were behind it all. The gods who whispered in her ear that she was better off not being born. The gods who declared she must suffer her whole life. What did Tokue think about life once she understood this? How was she going to live out the rest of it? She was just a girl, quietly sobbing her heart out.

Some lives are all too brief, while others are a continual struggle. I couldn't help thinking that it was a brutal assessment of people's lives to employ usefulness to society as a yardstick by which to measure their value.

Somehow this mixture of grief and solace, cherry blossoms and red beans is a recipe for happiness.

We discovered that once we experienced the joy of being out in the world and free again, the greater the happiness, the more we felt the pain of lost time and lives that could never be returned.

the moon whispering to me. It said: I wanted you to see me. That’s why I shine like this.

Anyone is capable of making a positive contribution to the world through simple observation, irrespective of circumstance. This is the idea that Tokue expresses when she writes in her letter, ‘We were born in order to see and listen to the world.’ It’s a powerful notion, with the potential to subtly reshape our view of everything.

I know you may not be able to hear anything now, even if you try, but please don't give up. I feel sure that one day you will find whatever it is you seek, and that the spark that leads to it will come from hearing some kind of voice. People's lives never stay the same colour forever. There are times when the colour of life changes completely.

the world isn’t an easy place…

Only adults look while pretending not to. Is that better? Or is it better to ask straight out?

The world isn’t an easy place

When I make sweet bean paste I observe closely the colour of the adzuki beans’ faces. I take in their voices. That might mean imagining a rainy day or the beautiful fine weather that they have witnessed. I listen to their stories of the winds that blew on their journey to me.

But as life passed by while shut up in here, I came to understand something. I realized that no matter how much we lost, or however badly we were treated, the fact is we are still human. All we can do is keep on going with our lives, even if we lose limbs, because this is not a fatal illness. In the midst of darkness and a struggle we had no hope of winning, I held on to this one thing – the fact of our humanity – and I was proud of it. That’s maybe why I tried to Listen, because I believe that human beings are living creatures with this capability. When I Listened, I sometimes heard things.

She was more beautiful than anything he’d ever seen, Her hair the shade of coffee beans, A hoodie sheltered her in a sheet of red, That slowly seeped and gently bled And when she laughed She crept her way into his heart. Broken pieces, tied together, A sea of stars that were forever A mystery meant to be solved And in a flash, his world evolved A fearless bird soaring through a bright blue sky Yet still as sweet as strawberry pie Secrets bottled, stolen glances Cloud-filled skies and second chances And as time swept past in a quick blur The lost boy fell in love with her.

Inside an H Mart complex, there will be some kind of food court, an appliance shop, and a pharmacy. Usually, there's a beauty counter where you can buy Korean makeup and skin-care products with snail mucin or caviar oil, or a face mask that vaguely boasts "placenta." (Whose placenta? Who knows?) There will usually be a pseudo-French bakery with weak coffee, bubble tea, and an array of glowing pastries that always look much better than they taste. My local H Mart these days is in Elkins Park, a town northeast of Philadelphia. My routine is to drive in for lunch on the weekends, stock up on groceries for the week, and cook something for dinner with whatever fresh bounty inspires me. The H Mart in Elkins Park has two stories; the grocery is on the first floor and the food court is above it. Upstairs, there is an array of stalls serving different kinds of food. One is dedicated to sushi, one is strictly Chinese. Another is for traditional Korean jjigaes, bubbling soups served in traditional earthenware pots called ttukbaegis, which act as mini cauldrons to ensure that your soup is still bubbling a good ten minutes past arrival. There's a stall for Korean street food that serves up Korean ramen (basically just Shin Cup noodles with an egg cracked in); giant steamed dumplings full of pork and glass noodles housed in a thick, cakelike dough; and tteokbokki, chewy, bite-sized cylindrical rice cakes boiled in a stock with fish cakes, red pepper, and gochujang, a sweet-and-spicy paste that's one of the three mother sauces used in pretty much all Korean dishes. Last, there's my personal favorite: Korean-Chinese fusion, which serves tangsuyuk---a glossy, sweet-and-sour orange pork---seafood noodle soup, fried rice, and black bean noodles.

As they were heading back through the centre of the park again, Sentaro felt a tugging sensation at his back. He turned around and saw the stone cairn at the charnel house. Four thousand souls. Four thousand people who never went home. He felt their eyes boring down on him from above.

When I was nine, Sunrise Market relocated to a larger store. My mom pored giddily over the new imports that came with the expansion: pollack roe frozen in little wooden boxes; packages of Chapagetti instant black-bean noodles; bungeo-ppang, fish-shaped pastry filled with ice cream and sweet red-bean paste, each new item reviving bygone memories of her childhood, conjuring new recipes to capture old tastes.

Разбира се... този който й беше прошепнал, че би било по-добре никога да не се раждала, този, който стоеше зад всичко това... Беше Бог. Бог беше постановил, че тя трябва да страда през целия си живот.

She said that? True? She did. Honest. We wer elooking at the full moon together. You could see it above the cherry tree outside the shop. She said it was so lovely, we should go outside and look. Then, while we were staring at the moon, she said that ... It was a promise between the three of us, Tokue, and me, and the moon

She said that? True? She did. Honest. We were looking at the full moon together. You could see it above the cherry tree outside the shop. She said it was so lovely, we should go outside and look. Then while we were staring at the moon she said that ... It was a promise between the three of us - Tokue, and me, and the moon.

the law changed, for one happy moment we all thought we could go home. But more than a dozen years have passed since then and almost no one has come forward to take us back. The world hasn’t changed. It’s just as cruel as it always was.

That’s maybe why I tried to Listen, because I believe that human beings are living creatures with this capability. When I Listened, I sometimes heard things.

Can you imagine what it’s like for someone who can’t see or feel, to taste something sweet?

It’s my belief that everything in this world has its own language. We have the ability to open up our ears and minds to anything and everything.

In answer, I can say that I know with certainty that life does have meaning. Of course, knowing that doesn't mean that all our problems are suddenly solved, and sometimes simply getting on with life feels like a never-ending ordeal.

I thought I heard a voice that sounded very much like the moon whispering to me. It said: I wanted you to see me. That's why I shine like this.

know you may not be able to hear anything now, even if you try, but please don’t give up. I feel sure that one day you will find whatever it is you seek, and that the spark that leads to it will come from hearing some kind of voice. People’s lives never stay the same colour forever. There are times when the colour of life changes completely.

These are people living somewhere between hunter-gatherers and subsistence farmers. Lindeberg wrote, “Cultivated tubers (mainly yam, sweet potato and taro) are staples, supplemented by fruits, leaves, [coconuts], fish, maize, tapioca and beans.” All less calorically dense foods, save for the occasional coconut. About 70 percent of their calories come from carbohydrates—so you could say the Kitavans have a high-carb diet—and they eat around 2,200 calories a day, despite having plenty of food in storage. Critically, Lindeberg reported, the Kitavans eat no processed, higher-density foods. He found no overweight Kitavans and zero indications of heart disease or evidence that any Kitavan had ever had a heart attack or stroke. The majority of people he tested were over 50 years old. A handful even reached past 90—quite a feat without modern medicine.

If I were not here, this full moon would not be here. Neither would the trees. Or the wind. If my view of the world disappears, then everything that I see disappears too.

At one time I wanted to be a writer. But I never write a word these days. I never became expert in dorayaki either. I’m just a waster.

Another girl had shown Tokue her new mobile phone, which was apparently the very latest, so Sentaro probably hadn’t seen one yet either, she said. What kind of world will it be in the future now that those things are an inseparable part of children’s lives, she wondered.

Sentaro Tsujii? What a lovely name. It sounds like an actor.’ ‘Hah, I don’t think so. It’s just me…

The pain also gets to you. That was another thing. It goes on and on, and some people choose to die. I thought I’d reached my limit.

The pain also gets to you. That was another thing. It goes on and on, and some people choose to die. I thought I’d reached my limit. But for some reason I survived.

From the Bridge” Celebrating “La Navidad Cubana” Before the fall of Batista, Cuba was considered to be a staunch Catholic Nation. As in other Christian countries, Christmas was considered a religious holiday. In 1962, a few years after the revolution, Cuba became an atheist country by government decree. Then In 1969, Fidel Castro thinking that Christmas was interfering with the production of sugar cane, totally removed the holiday from the official calendar. Of course Christmas was still celebrated by Cubans in exile, many of whom live in South Florida and Union City, NJ. However it was still was celebrated clandestinely in a subdued way on the island. It was said, if it is to believed, that part of the reason for this was due to the fact that Christmas trees do not grow in Cuba. Now that Christianity and Christmas have both been reestablished by the government, primarily due to the Pope’s visits to Cuba, Christmas as a holiday has been reinstated. Many Christmas traditions have been lost over the past five decades and are still not observed in Cuba, although the Cuban Christmas feast is highlighted by a festive “Pig Roast,” called the “Cena de Navidad” or Christmas dinner. Where possible, the dinner includes Roast Pork done on a spit, beans, plantains, rice and “mojo” which is a type of marinade with onions, garlic, and sour orange. Being a special event, some Cubans delight in serving the roasted pork, in fancier ways than others. Desserts like sweet potatos, “turrones” or nougats, “buñuelos” or fritters, as well as readily available tropical fruits and nuts hazelnuts, guava and coconuts, are very common at most Christmas dinners. Beverages such as the “Mojito” a drink made of rum, sugar cane juice, lime, carbonated water and mint, is the main alcoholic drink for the evening, although traditionally the Christmas dinner should be concluded by drinking wine. This grand Christmas dinner is considered a special annual occasion, for families and friends to join together. Following this glorious meal, many Cubans will attend Misa de Gallo or mass of the rooster, which is held in most Catholic churches at midnight. The real reason for Christmas in Cuba, as elsewhere, is to celebrate the birth of Christ. Churches and some Cuban families once again, display manger scenes. Traditionally, children receive presents from the Three Wise Men and not from Santa Claus or the parents. Epiphany or “Three King’s Day,” falls on January 6th. Christmas in Cuba has become more festive but is not yet the same as it used to be. Although Christmas day is again considered a legal holiday in Cuba, children still have to attend school on this holiday and stores, restaurants and markets stay open for regular business. Christmas trees and decorations are usually only displayed at upscale hotels and resorts.

There were no ready-made sauces, except for the slowly fermented chilli bean paste; we mixed them ourselves from the essential seasonings: sugar, vinegar, soy sauce and sesame paste in various combinations.

I began to understand that we were born in order to see and listen to the world. And that’s all this world wants of us. It doesn’t matter that I was never a teacher or a member of the workforce, my life had meaning.

When I first came here the blossoms were out, but it’s a sad sight now,’ she said. ‘The wind’s cold, too.’ ‘I wonder if I’ll see next year’s blossom.’ ‘Of course you will. Tokue, please, will you come and teach me how to make bean paste again?

Anyone who was ever shut up in here has thought that. I’d like to get hold of the gods – if there really are any – and give them a good clout for all they put us through.

She said that was the only way for us to live, to be like the poets. That’s what she said. If all you ever see is reality, you just want to die. The only way to get over barriers, she said, is to live in the spirit of already being over them.

the idea that we have been nurtured by the universe to prove its existence. If there is no single conscious mind capable of doing this, the existence of the universe itself becomes unverifiable.

I’m sure there comes a time for everyone, not just those with Hansen’s disease, when they wonder what the point of life is.

Kita punya wadah masing-masing yang bisa diisi

Menurutku sekali-kali kita harus mengikuti apa yang kita suka

The only way to get over barriers, she said, is to live in the spirit of already being over them.

Memories of his mother...She was softly spoken but troubled by anxieties beneath the surface that she could not conceal. Then there were the loud disputes with his father, and arguments with relatives that made her cry and scream. As a child Sentaro had been frightened by these outbursts, that's why he'd wished there could always be cake on the table. Because his mother had a sweet tooth, and whenever they had the sweet things that she liked, such as manju buns or cake, she would be in a good mood and he could also feel at peace. He loved his mother when she smiled and said to him, 'Mm, isn't this delicious, Sen?

I'm embarrassed to say, but I didn't always keep to the straight and narrow. I just bumbled along, not knowing what to do with my life, really. Whatever I did never worked out. At one time I wanted to be a writer. But I never write a word these days. I never became expert in dorayaki either. I'm just a waster.

Instinctively Sentaro tried to anticipate Tokue, and create a space for her words.

He also considered that perhaps the sluggish economy had something to do with it. There were permanently shuttered shops all around them on the street.

The bones of more than 4,000 people are in here. When the law changed, for one happy moment we all thought we could go home. But more than a dozen years have passed since then and almost no one has come forward to take us back. The world hasn't changed. It's just as cruel as it always was.

An image of the cherry tree outside the shop rose in his mind again. No doubt it was proudly blooming again this year, stopping passers-by in their tracks with its glorious cloud of flowers. Petals would be wafting down into the shop. And the school girls who complained about petals in their dorayaki...

Върнал си ми почти цялата сума, опрощавам ти остатъка. Нека продължим напред с достойнство, нали така, Сентаро-сан. Не сме ли свидетели на смяна на сезоните в природата? И в живота нещата се променят.

Ако човек не действа, когато има възможност, ще се окаже притиснат в ъгъла и това напълно ще го съсипе.