Yasunari Kawabata

she had carefully catalogued every novel and short story she had read since she was fifteen or sixteen. The record already filled ten notebooks.

“You write down your criticisms, do you?”

“I could never do anything like that. I just write down the author and the characters and how they are related to each other. That is about all.”

My own private style—you’d laugh at it, I know. And then my voice gives out when I’m singing for someone I know well. It’s always loud and brave for strangers.

I don’t tell lies just because people might be listening

Shimamura asked the porter nonchalantly

Hakamairi itchō, itchō, itchō ya