“What is a flower? A giant sexual organ in its Sunday best. The truth has been known for a long time, yet, over-aged adolescents that we are, we persist in speaking sentimental drives about the delicacy of flowers. We construct idiotic phrases like "So-and-so is in the flower of his youth", which is as absurd as saying "in the vagina of his youth".”

“I don’t understand. She’s always been so friendly toward me.”“Yes, so long as your work consisted of updating calendars and photocopying golf club bylaws.”“But there was no danger of my taking her place!”“She was never afraid of that.”“Then why denounce me? Why would it upset her if I went to work for you?”“Miss Mori struggled for years to get the job she has now. She probably found it unbearable for you to get that sort of promotion after being with the company only ten weeks.”“I can’t believe it. That’s just so … mean.”“All I can say is that she suffered greatly during the first few years she was here.”“So she wants me to suffer the same fate? It’s too pathetic. I must talk to her.”“Do you really think that’s a good idea?”“Of course. How else are we going to work things out if we don’t talk?”“You just talked to Mister Omochi. Does it strike you that things have been worked out?”

“Fubuki, wouldn’t it be a thousand times better to stay unmarried than tie yourself down with some creep? What would you do with a husband like that? And how can you feel ashamed of not marrying one of these men, when you’re so sublime, so Olympian? They’re almost all shorter than you. Don’t you think that’s a sign? You’re too long a bow for any of these pathetic little shooters.”

“Honor sometimes means doing something very unwise. Behaving like an idiot is better than dishonor. To this day I blush for having chosen sensible restraint over common decency.”

“Because we don't have much time together, I will give you as much love in a year as I could give you in a lifetime.”

“Se sentir bien est une ambition absurdement exagérée quand se sentir est déjà si rare”

“I glanced at the contents of what I was photocopying. They were the rules of the golf club of which Mister Saito was a member. I started to laugh.The next minute I felt more like crying, thinking about all the innocent trees that my superior was wasting to chastise me. I imagined the forests of the Japan of my childhood—maples, cedars, and ginkgoes—felled for the sole purpose of punishing a creature as insignificant as myself. I remembered, again, that Fubuki’s family name meant “forest.”