Quite Possibly, What I Call

The Period Of Childhood Is A Stage On Which Time And Space Become Entangled.

For A Long Time I Had Not Approached The Forbidden Fruit Called Happiness, But It Was Now Tempting Me With A Melancholy Persistence. I Felt As Though Sonoko Were An Abyss Above Which I Stood Poised.

Mine Was The Unbearable Jealousy A Cultured Pearl Must Feel Toward A Genuine One. Or Can There Be Such A Thing In This World As A Man Who Is Jealous Of The Woman Who Loves Him, Precisely Because Of Her Love?

Again And Again, The Cicada's Untiring Cry Pierced The Sultry Summer Air Like A Needle At Work On Thick Cotton Cloth.

Living Is Merely The Chaos Of Existence.