Haruki Murakami. Kafka on the shore (№ 169217)

Your soul is as swollen by long rains big river. The flood engulfed everything that was on the ground, leaving no sign, no index, and is rushing somewhere in the dark. And the rain keeps pouring and pouring over the river. Every time I see such a deluge in the news on TV, you think: "Yes, that's right. It's my soul."