Haruki Murakami Quotes

I prefer simple things - monotone melodies repeating the same things all the time. Because I think life is like that.

I train and I go home, and when I'm home, I think about training. That's my life every day, and that's it.

I'm sick of the treadmill.

I hate housework! You make the beds, you do the dishes and six months later you have to start all over again.

I began to realize how simple life could be if one had a regular routine to follow with fixed hours, a fixed salary, and very little original thinking to do.

Housekeeping is like being caught in a revolving door.

I go home and stay there. I wash and scrub up each day, and that's it. One month I actually grew a moustache, just so I could say that I'd done something.

Sometimes it gets boring. No justice is supposed to say that. But, you know, there's drudgery in every job you're going to do.

I prize being just a normal dude that wakes up, goes to work, comes home to his wife - like, quite boring.

We don't get to get swept up, because we have to start over every day at 8 o'clock.

I do the laundry. I do the shopping. I do the dishes.

I love cooking. I prepare kolambu, maintain the house... just like anyone else.

My daily routine is set: I wake up and go for gymnastics, then dance class, gym, and come back home. That's my life. I am very boring.

Repetition is the reality and the seriousness of life.

Housework is a treadmill from futility to oblivion with stop-offs at tedium and counter productivity.

A woman who spends all day washing and cooking and ironing doesn't want to go to the movies to watch a film about a woman who spends all day washing and cooking and ironing.

I get very bored at practice because I have run curl-flat a million times, or slant-drag. There are so many parts of the game that have become so routine that you can let it bore you, and that's not good.

Certainly, nothing can be more simple than monotony.

Get up. Go to work. Play the game. Get showered. Go home.

And just as a little thread of gold, running through a fabric, brightens the whole garment, so women's work at home, while only the doing of little things, like the golden gleam of sunlight runs through and brightens all the fabric of civilization.

I live a very simple existence when I'm not on the road. Because when I'm on the road making a movie, I'm away from home.

Where woman has taken her place in business she has found her method ready-shaped for her, and following that, she does her work,if with a certain amount of monotony, yet without undue fatigue. Her hours are fixed, and as a rule she gets needful change of scene as she goes to her business and returns to her home or the place where she lives. But the "home- maker" has not, nor can she have, any such change, and her hours are always from the rising of the sun beyond the going down of the same.

Few tasks are more like the torture of Sisyphus than housework, with its endless repetition: the clean becomes soiled, the soiled is made clean, over and over, day after day.

A certain amount of housekeeping also goes on in my poems. I wash doorknobs, do dishes, mop floors, patch carpets, cook.