Quote

But, drawn to her at that moment, he felt a quiet like the voice of the rain flow over him. He knew well enough that for her it was in fact no waste of effort, but somehow the final determination that it was had the effect of distilling and purifying the woman's existence.

Yasunari Kawabata

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Yasunari Kawabata
Age: 72 †
Born: 1899
Born: June 11
Died: 1972
Died: April 16
Novelist
Poet
Screenwriter
Writer
Ōsaka
Facts
Knew
Determination
Moments
Effort
Somehow
Wells
Existence
Effect
Well
Fact
Rain
Distilling
Enough
Moment
Flow
Purifying
Like
Voice
Waste
Drawn
Woman
Quiet
Final
Felt
Effects
Finals

More quotes by Yasunari Kawabata

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The labor into which a heart has poured its whole love--where will it have its say, to excite and inspire, and when?
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The snow on the distant mountains was soft and creamy, as if veiled in a faint smoke.
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Our language is primarily for expressing human goodness and beauty.
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Does pain go away and leave no trace, then?’ ‘You sometimes even feel sentimental for it.
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A child walked by, rolling a metal hoop that made a sound of autumn.
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Lunatics have no age. If we were crazy, you and I, we might be a great deal younger.
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The true joy of a moonlit night is something we no longer understand. Only the men of old, when there were no lights, could understand the true joy of a moonlit night.
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Along the coast the sea roars, and inland the mountains roar – the roaring at the center, like a distant clap of thunder.
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The winter moon becomes a companion, the heart of the priest, sunk in meditation upon religion and philosophy, there in the mountain hall, is engaged in a delicate interplay and exchange with the moon and it is this of which the poet sings.
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A secret, if it's kept, can be sweet and comforting, but once it leaks out it can turn on you with a vengeance.
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People have separated from each other with walls of concrete that blocked the roads to connection and love. and Nature has been defeated in the name of development.
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Now, even more than the evening before, he could think of no one with whom to compare her. She had become absolute, beyond comparison. She had become decision and fate.
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From the way of Go the beauty of Japan and the Orient had fled. Everything had become science and regulation.
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I suppose even a woman's hatred is a kind of love.
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They were words that came out of nothing, but they seemed to him somehow significant. He muttered them over again.
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Because you cannot see him, God is everywhere.
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And I can't complain. After all, only women are able really to love.
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But a haiku by Buson came into his mind: 'I try to forget this senile love a chilly autumn shower.' The gloom only grew denser.
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Maybe vagueness has been good for me. The word means two different things in Tokyo and Osaka, you know. In Tokyo it means stupidity, but in Osaka they talk about vagueness in a painting and in a game of Go.
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Seeing the moon, he becomes the moon, the moon seen by him becomes him. He sinks into nature, becomes one with nature. The light of the clear heart of the priest, seated in the meditation hall in the darkness before the dawn, becomes for the dawn moon its own light.
Yasunari Kawabata