Yabu Quotes

Oare ce-s nourii Daca nu o justificare a cerului? Oare ce-i viata Daca nu o amanare a mortii?

Yabu his sword.” “I think Lord Toranaga only wants Izu strong and a vassal state. Not as an ally. He doesn’t want allies any more than the Taikō did. Yabu thinks he’s an ally. I think Toranaga detests allies. Our clan will prosper as Toranaga vassals. Or as Ishido

There was a man of the cloth—Reverend Shibata of the First Baptist Church—who left urging everyone to forgive and forget. There was a man in a shiny brown suit—fry cook Kanda of Yabu Noodle—who left urging Reverend Shibata to give it a rest.

Yabu-san’s a violent man with no scruples whatsoever. He honors nothing but his own interests. Duty, loyalty, tradition, mean nothing to him. His mind has flashes of great cunning, even brilliance. He’s equally dangerous as ally or enemy.’     ‘All commendable virtues. What’s to be said against him?’     ‘A

Toranaga eased his kimono and loincloth aside, as did Yabu. Together they urinated and mixed their urine and watched it dew the garden below.

Anjin-san, forget the village. A thousand million things can happen before those six months occur. A tidal wave or earthquake, or you get your ship and sail away, or Yabu dies, or we all die, or who knows? Leave the problems of God to God and karma to karma. Today you’re here and nothing you can do will change that. Today you’re alive and here and honored, and blessed with good fortune. Look at this sunset, it’s beautiful, neh? This sunset exists. Tomorrow does not exist. There is only now. Please look. It is so beautiful and it will never happen ever again, never, not this sunset, never in all infinity. Lose yourself in it, make yourself one with nature and do not worry about karma, yours, mine, or that of the village.

Lethal to whom? Not to us English or Hollanders, who will come here peacefully and only as traders. Lethal to Yabu’s enemies and to Toranaga’s enemies, and to our Portuguese and Spanish enemies when they try to conquer Japan. Like they’ve done everywhere else. In every newly discovered territory. First the priests arrive. Then the conquistadores

Quando eu mato um homem, uso a minha espada, mas pessoas como você não usam espadas. Vocês, nobre senhores, matam com seu poder, com seu dinheiro, e às vezes meramente com suas palavras: vocês dizem às pessoas que estão fazendo um favor. Claro, nenhum sangue jorra, o homem ainda está vivo, mas vocês o mataram de toda maneira. Eu não seu qual pecado é o pior, o de vocês ou o meu.

I started in our neighborhood, buying a pastrami burrito at Oki Dog and a deluxe gardenburger at Astro Burger and matzoh-ball soup at Greenblatt's and some greasy egg rolls at the Formosa. In part funny, and rigid, and sleepy, and angry. People. Then I made concentric circles outward, reaching first to Canter's and Pink's, then rippling farther, tofu at Yabu and mole at Alegria and sugok at Marouch; the sweet-corn salad at Casbah in Silver Lake and Rae's charbroiled burgers on Pico and the garlicky hummus at Carousel in Glendale. I ate an enormous range of food, and mood. Many favorites showed up- families who had traveled far and whose dishes were steeped with the trials of passageways. An Iranian cafe near Ohio and Westwood had such a rich grief in the lamb shank that I could eat it all without doing any of my tricks- side of the mouth, ingredient tracking, fast-chew and swallow. Being there was like having a good cry, the clearing of the air after weight has been held. I asked the waiter if I could thank the chef, and he led me to the back, where a very ordinary-looking woman with gray hair in a practical layered cut tossed translucent onions in a fry pan and shook my hand. Her face was steady, faintly sweaty from the warmth of the kitchen. Glad you liked it, she said, as she added a pinch of saffron to the pan. Old family recipe, she said. No trembling in her voice, no tears streaking down her face.