"I wasn't in love with her. And she didn't love me. For me the question of love was irrelevant. What I sought was the sense of being tossed about by some raging, savage force, in the midst of which lays something absolutely crucial. I had no idea what that was. But I wanted to thrust my hand right inside her body and touch it..."
Haruki Murakami, South of the Border, West of the sun
Akroma
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