“What kind of world will be there tomorrow? "No one knows the answer to that," Fuka-Eri said.”

“You don't get it" she said''Don't get what?"''We are one"''We are one?" Tengo asked with a shock.''We wrote the book together"Tengo felt the pressure of Fuka-Eri's fingers against his palm. ...''That's true. We wrote Air Crysalis together. And when we are eaten by the tiger, we'll be eaten together.”

“You like sequences,” Fuka-Eri asked, without a question mark. “To me, they’re like Bach’s Well-Tempered Clavier. I never get tired of them.”

“This layers, like some kind of transparent sponge kind of thing, stands there between Eri Asai and me, and the words that come out of my mouth have to pass through it, and when that happens, the sponge sucks almost all the nutrients right out of them.”

“I don't know -- maybe the world has two different kinds of people, and for one kind the world is this completely logical, rice pudding place, and for the other it's all hit-or-miss macaroni gratin.”

“But still," Ayumi said, "it seems to me that this world has a serious shortage of both logic and kindness.""You may be right," Aomame said, "But it's too late to trade it in for another one.”

“All he had ever prayed for was the ability to catch outfield flies, in answer to which God had bestowed upon him a penis that was bigger than anybody else's. What kind of world came up with such idiotic bargains?”