Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
It's not a bad thing to be loved.
On TV they keep their kids. Love them.
We're still on the run. That's for sure.
Hell is having no option but the wrong one.
Now there's the Niida we all know and loathe.
There's no end to suspicion once you get going.
To memorize something,it's best to write it down.
Sometimes you need to lie make the world go around
Nice jewelry and a boys corpse. Oh you're so pretty.
Loving someone always requires you to not love others.
Hurry and you can have the big crybaby for first kill.
Silly boys. Did you think we were making a silent movie?
I just didn't want to be a loser anymore... -Mitsuko Souma
Even if it's a lie, even if it's a dream, please turn to me.
Hey there. Here's something familiar, a bat. Hope you like it.
How do you know I didn't bring you out here to dispose of you in private?
Now, once again, 2 students left. But of course they're a part of you now.
Cowards can't be faulted for being shy. They can't be held responsible for anything.
We're still on the run. That's for sure. Right on. This time we're on. And we won't stop till we win.
Yes, just like those flowers. There's something strained, but there's beauty in that. Something like that
"Someday I'm going to marry someone like my mom and I'll be smiling all the time the way my Mom and Dad are.
But I'm willing to take a chance on believing there has to be a way. All I need is someone to believe with me.
And so Yoshimi heard the dry pop one more time. Her forehead felt as if it were being crushed by a car. That was all.
By then she was dead. In fact, she may have been dead a while ago. Physically, several seconds ago, mentally, ages ago.
I hope you fall in love with someone nice and have a good marriage. I might end up dying without knowing what it's like to be in love.
They tried to believe in their classmates. They must have believed that if we could all get together, then we might end up being saved. We should commend them for that. We couldn't do that.
You all have your own distinct personal backgrounds. Of course some of you come from rich families, some from poor families. But circumstances beyond your control like that shouldn’t determine who you are. You must all realize what you’re worth on your own.
She looked up at the sky, now tinged with orange. "Please live. Talk, think, act. And sometimes listen to music..." She stopped briefly. "Look at paintings, allow yourself to be moved. Laugh a lot, and at times, cry. And if you find a wonderful girl, then you go for her, and love her.
Furthermore--though it was quite irrelevant now--he had no idea his killer, Kazuo Kiriyama, had, in his mansion that was much larger than Toshinori's home in Shiroiwa-cho, mastered the violin at a level far superior to Toshinori's a long time ago--and then tossed his violin into the trash.
You wear nice clothes, you seek respect, you make a lot of money, but what's the point? It's all pointless. Of course, this kind of meaninglessness might suit this crappy nation. But, you see, we still have emotions like joy and happiness, right? They may not mount to much. But they fill up our emptiness. That's the only explanation I have.
Takako looked into Hiroki's eyes and grinned. "You've become quie a stud." "And...you're the most stylin' girl in the world." Takako smiled faintly. She wanted to thank him, but she was out of breath. She just stared at Hiroki's eyes. She was grateful. At least she wasn't going to die alone. The last person to stay with her ended up being Hiroki. And she was grateful. She really was.
Shinji slowly fell forward onto his face. Debris bounced up on impact. It took less than thirty seconds for the rest of his body to die. The memento of his beloved uncle--the earring worn by the woman he loved--was now stained with the blood running down Shinji's left ear, reflecting the glow from the red flames of the farm building. And so the boy known as the Third Man, Shinji Mimura, was dead.
You're so kind, Kazuhiko. That's what I like about you." I like you, too. I love you so much." If he weren't so inarticulate, Kazuhiko could have said so much more. How much her expression, her gentle manner, her pure untainted soul meant to him. How important, in short, her existence was to him. But he wasn't able to put into words. He was only a third-year student in junior high, and worst yet, composition was one of his worst subjects.
One thing was absolutely certain—it was a given for Kazuo. Although he might not have particularlyrealized it, or more appropriately, perhaps because he was incapable of coming to such a realization, this was what it came down to: he, Kazuo Kiriyama, felt no emotion, no guilt, no sorrow, no pity, towards the four corpses, including Mitsuru's—and that ever since the day he was dropped into this world theway he was, he had never once felt a single emotion.
Shogo looked at Shuya and Noriko. "The winner's forced to transfer to another school where he or she is ordered not to mention the game and is instructed instead to lead a normal life. That's all." Shuya felt his chest well up inside and his face froze. He stared at Shogo and realized that Noriko was holding her breath. Shogo said, "I was a student in Third Year Class C, Second District, Kobe, Hyogo Prefecture." He added, "I survived the Program held in Hyogo Prefecture last year.
Kazuhiko could have taken his gun and aimed it at the person behind them. But Sakura wouldn't want that. What she wanted was to leave this world quietly before they got sucked into this horrible massacre. Nothing was more important to him than her. There was no room for compromise. If this were what her trembling soul wanted, then he would follow her. Had he been more eloquent he might have described his feelings as something like, "I'm going to die for her honor." Their two bodies danced in the air beyond the cliff, their hands still clasped together, the black sea under them.