⛥ Real things in the darkness seem no realer than dreams.
—Murasaki Shikibu,
⛥ There are as many sorts of women as there are women.—Murasaki Shikibu,
⛥ The world know it not; but you, Autumn, I confess it: your wind at night-fall stabs deep into my heart. —Murasaki Shikibu,
⛥ No art or learning is to be pursued halfheartedly...and any art worth learning will certainly reward more or less generously the effort made to study it. —Murasaki Shikibu,
⛥ Autumn is no time to lie alone. —Murasaki Shikibu,
⛥ Life is full of uncertainties, perhaps one day some unforeseen circumstance would bring her into his life once more, —Murasaki Shikibu,
⛥ Ceaseless as the interminable voices of the bell-cricket, all night till dawn my tears flow.—Murasaki Shikibu,
⛥ You that in far-off countries of the sky can dwell secure, look back upon me here; for I am weary of this frail world's decay.—Murasaki Shikibu,
⛥ One ought not to be unkind to a woman merely on account of her plainness, any more than one had a right to take liberties with her merely because she was handsome.—Murasaki Shikibu,
⛥ You are here to remind me of someone I long for, and what is it you long for yourself? We must have been together in an earlier life, you and I.—Murasaki Shikibu,
⛥ If like the leaf of the wisteria through which the sun darts his rays transparently you give your heart to me, I will no longer distrust you, —Murasaki Shikibu,
⛥ Your coldness serves to emphasize my own inadequacy, and makes me feel that the best solution might be to expire. —Murasaki Shikibu,
⛥ Why do you grieve so uselessly? Every uncertainty is the result of a certainty. There is nothing in this world really to be lamented. —Murasaki Shikibu,
⛥ Would that, like the smoke of the watch-fires that mounts and vanishes at random in the empty sky, the smouldering flame of passion could burn itself away. —Murasaki Shikibu,
⛥ She was gentle and sedate as usual, but evidently absent and preoccupied. Her eyes rested on the dew lying on the grass in the garden, and her ears were intent upon the melancholy singing of the autumn insects. It was as if we were in a real romance. —Murasaki Shikibu,
⛥ It is indeed in many ways more comfortable to belong to that section of society whose action are not publicly canvassed and discussed. —Murasaki Shikibu,
⛥ I leave you, to go the road we all must go. The road I would choose, if only I could, is the other. —Murasaki Shikibu,
⛥ No penance can your hard heart find save such as you long since have taught me to endure —Murasaki Shikibu,
⛥ My dwelling is but a rustic cottage, but still I should like you to see, at least, the pretty mountain streamlet which waters my garden. —Murasaki Shikibu,
⛥ Even those people who have no sorrow of their own often feel melancholy from the circumstances in which they are placed.—Murasaki Shikibu,
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