“Spring will be here soon. Spring, the season I met you, is coming. A Spring without you...is coming.”
0
“Spring will be here soon. Spring, the season I met you, is coming. A Spring without you...is coming.”
“This silence belongs to us... and every single person out there, is waiting for us to fill it with something.”
“A lump of steel, like a shooting star. Just seeing the same sky as you makes familiar scenery look different. I swing between hope and despair at your slightest gesture, and my heart starts to play a melody. What kind of feeling is this again? What do they call this kind of feeling? I think it's probably... Called Love. I'm sure this is what they call love.”
“Hold on. Don't go! Let's argue again. I'll bribe you with a canelé. I'll call you to kill time. I don't mind being Friend A. Please don't go. Please don't go. Please don't go...please don't leave me behind.”
“Isn't it funny how the most unforgettable scenes can be so trivial ?”
“Maybe... just maybe, the light can reach even the bottom of a dark ocean.”
“The piano is meant to be played like you're embracing it, right?”
“You're like a cat. If I get close, you'll ignore me and go far away. If I get hurt, you'll play around to share the pain.”
“I want to hear it again, yet I don't want to hear it again. I want to see her, yet I don't want to see her. What do you call this kind of feeling again?”
“I look like I'm suffering, huh? That's not good... But of course I'd be suffering. I mean, I'm gonna sail in uncharted waters, right? Both, taking on a challenge and creating something. It is painful, but it's fulfilling.”
“You know, I discovered something. Everyone has something... Something deep inside their hearts. For some, it might have been enmity. For others, admiration. Wishes, a craving for the spotlight, feelings that one wants to deliver, feelings for one's mother. Everyone was supported by their own feelings. I realize now that, perhaps, no one can stand alone on stage.”
“Even in the depths of the darkest oceans, some light always pierces through.”
“The more I concentrate, the more I get consumed by my performance. The sounds I play fade away from my reach, tangling up like flowers seized by the spring wind and vanish.”
“But I wasn't slacking at all. I practiced till I passed out. I gave my all. And if I still turned in a sloppy performance after all that, then... That's who I am now. It's the current me, playing with everything I've got.”