“My grandpa always said asking a question is embarrassing for a moment, but not asking is embarrassing for a lifetime.”

“The dowager said, “I was tremendously struck by what you said at the gym the other day. About powerlessness. About how powerlessness inflicts such damage on people. Do you remember?” Aomame nodded. “I do.” “Do you mind if I ask you a question? It will be a very direct question. To save time.” “Ask whatever you like,” Aomame said. “Are you a feminist, or a lesbian?” Aomame blushed slightly and shook her head. “I don’t think so. My thoughts on such matters are strictly my own. I’m not a doctrinaire feminist, and I’m not a lesbian.”

“I'm often asked what I think about as I run. Usually the people who ask this have never run long distances themselves. I always ponder the question. What exactly do I think about when I'm running? I don't have a clue.”

“If everybody went around understanding each other without asking questions or speaking their mind, they'd never get anywhere.”

“It's kind of embarrassing to put this into words," she said, "but I want to stay friends with you, Junpei. Not just for now, but even after we get older. A lot older. I love Takatsuki, but I need you, too, in a different way. Does that make me selfish?”

“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.”

“How much do you love me?' Midori asked.'Enough to melt all the tigers in the world to butter,' I said.”