The labor into which a heart has poured its whole love--where will it have its say, to excite and inspire, and when?
Yasunari KawabataRead
I wonder what the retirement age is in the novel business. The day you die.
Interpretation
The quote reflects on the concept of work and life, suggesting that for some, the true end of professional engagement is death.
In this quote by Yasunari Kawabata, the idea of retirement is provocatively redefined. Rather than adhering to a conventional age where one stops working, he implies that for those deeply engaged in their craft, their work continues until the end of their life. This challenges societal norms surrounding retirement and emphasizes the passion that can exist within one's work, blurring the line between professional and personal fulfillment.
In practice
This quote could be used during a speech about pursuing one's passion in a career.
The labor into which a heart has poured its whole love--where will it have its say, to excite and inspire, and when?
The woman was silent, her eyes on the floor. Shimamura had come to a point where he knew he was only parading his masculine shamelessness, and yet it seemed likely enough that the woman was familiar with the failing and need not be shocked by it. He looked at her. Perhaps it was the rich lashes of the downcast eyes that made her face seem warm and sensuous. She shook her head very slightly, and again a faint blush spread over her face.
The road was frozen. The village lay quiet under the cold sky. Komako hitched up the skirt of her kimono and tucked it into her obi. The moon shone like a blade frozen in blue ice.
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.
Put your soul in the palm of my hand for me to look at, like a crystal jewel. I'll sketch it in words.
Lunatics have no age. If we were crazy, you and I, we might be a great deal younger.
If you want guarantees in life, then you don't want life. You want rehearsals for a script that's already been written. Life by its nature cannot have guarantees, or its whole purpose is thwarted.
Why should we tolerate a diet of weak poisons, a home in insipid surroundings, a circle of acquaintances who are not quite our enemies, the noise of motors with just enough relief to prevent insanity? Who would want to live in a world which is just not quite fatal?
We do not grow absolutely, chronologically. We grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another, unevenly. We grow partially. We are relative. We are mature in one realm, childish in another. The past, present, and future mingle and pull us backward, forward, or fix us in the present. We are made of layers, cells, constellations.
I believe that, through the act of living, the discovery of oneself is made concurrently with the discovery of the world around us.
In my case, I think my exile saved my life, for it inexorably confirmed something which Americans appear to have great difficulty accepting. Which is, simply, this: a man is not a man until he is able and willing to accept his own vision of the world, no matter how radically this vision departs from others.
Except a man be born again, he will wish one day he had never been born at all.
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