Nagiko: I am certain that there are two things in life which are dependable: the delights of the flesh and the delights of literature. I have had the good fortune to enjoy them both equally.
Nagiko: The smell of white paper is like the scent of skin of a new lover who has just paid a surprise visit out of a rainy garden. And the black ink is like lacquered hair. And the quill? Well, the quill is like that instrument of pleasure whose purpose is never in doubt but whose surprising efficiency one always, always forgets.
Nagiko: Nipples like bone buttons. An instep like a half open book. A navel like the inside of a shell. A belly like an upturned saucer. A penis like a sea slug or a pickled cucumber.
Nagiko: How can I get pleasure writing on you? You have to write on me.
Jerome: Go on. Use my body like the pages of a book. Of your book.
Nagiko: Farewells can be both beautiful and despicable. Saying farewell to one who is loved is very complicated. Why should a person be obligated to stand such sweet pain and such bitter pleasure?
The Aunt: This is a book written a long time ago. It is called The Pillow Book and written by a lady who has the same first name as you - Nagiko. When you are twenty-eight years old this book will be exactly a thousand years old. Think of that.
