3-Day Quote Challenge: Day The Second

Alright Peoplleaneous,

I owe you a quote for Day 2 of the 3-Day Quote Challenge! But first! Thanks to everyone for sharing your quotes on the post and on your blogs. I love reading them – keep ’em coming!

Good god, that’s a shitton of exclamation points in a short time. I’m as hyper as five hummingbirds fighting over the same nectar. I’m as hyper as a ten-bee orgy. (OHMYGOSH Y’ALL. THAT’S WHERE THE BEE GEES GOT THEIR NAME FROM! THAT’S WHY THEY HAD NIGHT FEVER.) Take your pick. I’m hyper, y’all. And it doesn’t necessarily equate to good feelings. Just. Ass. Tons. Of. Energy. Woo!

I know y’all haven’t known me long. But surely you know me well enough by now to know that you’re not getting one quote. Nuh uh. You’re getting at least one and a half.

Quoth the Raven:

Somewhere, far, far away, there’s a shitty island. An island without a name. An island not worth giving a name. A shitty island with a shitty shape. On this shitty island grow palm trees that also have shitty shapes. And the palm trees produce coconuts that give off a shitty smell. Shitty monkeys live in the trees, and they love to eat these shitty-smelling coconuts, after which they shit the world’s foulest shit. The shit falls on the ground and builds up shitty mounds, making the shitty palm trees that grow on them even shittier. It’s an endless cycle.

~Haruki Murakami. The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle.

Those of you unfamiliar with Murakami’s work, please do not let that off-color passage deter you from entering his world. He is easily my favorite current author. All of the books I own by him so far are littered with notes and stickies and flagged passages and phrases. He speaks to my soul like…well like only Murakami can right now. His works are serious and surreal and deep and thought-provoking. And no. No. I cannot continue, because this is NOT the kind of half-ass, poorly thought out review I wanna write of his works. So. The point is. The passage I just put as my next quote? It’s in the middle of this super-serious book, and it leapt off of the page at me, and I laughed out loud. I laughed. I snorted. I moved on. And then I lost it again. Funny funny. Can you see it? The shitty monkeys on the shitty palm trees of shitty island?

WHY AREN’T YOU LAUGHING?!

Fine. You don’t wanna laugh at my funny? Cry, then!

Quoth the Depressed:

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 four o’clock in the morning.

~Haruki Murakami. The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle.

Another of my marked passages from the same book and author.

~

I’m having a strange day. Mentally. Moodily. Tummily. And now there’s this little bit of work that needs doing, and I find my restless boredom doesn’t quite extend that far. But I have to force it. I’ll try to write more later. I have so much to say to you people!

~Stephanie