Mention161503
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| so:text | But even so, every now and then I would feel a violent stab of loneliness. The very water I drink, the very air I breathe, would feel like long, sharp needles. The pages of a book in my hands would take on the threatening metallic gleam of razor blades. I could hear the roots of loneliness creeping through me when the world was hushed at 4 o'clock in the morning. (en) |
| so:isPartOf | https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Haruki_Murakami |
| so:description | The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle (1994-1995) (en) |
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Triples where Mention161503 is the object (without rdf:type)
| qkg:Quotation151571 | qkg:hasMention |
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