Character: Nitta Sayuri. Page 1

- There are good and bad wrinkles, Nobu-San. Never forget that.
- You're not as young as it once was.
- Now you begin to insult me!
- I'm not insulting you, but stating a fact.
- There are bad and good wrinkles, and also good and bad facts. Bad facts are best avoided.

I did not sleep, but sank for a while into a state of self-pity.

Can't say I had any particular talent but I always worked tirelessly to achieve his goal.

I wish I knew always, when we get a splinter out of our body, it leaves behind an open wound. Forever banishing Nobu from my life, I didn't just lose his friendship. It ended up that I had banished himself from Dzhiona.
The reason for this is so obvious, that I ought to foresee everything in advance. The man who owns the prize for his friend, faces a difficult choice: he must either hide his prize so that his friend found him, if possible, or lose friendships with dear man. This is a problem similar to the one we faced Pumpkin: our relationship has not recovered after my adoption.

I think I resemble a river, a landslide dam named Hatsumomo.
- Maybe you're right, ' she said, tenderly looking at me. But sometimes the river demolition of the dam.

A whole year without news, except news of death, defeat, shame. Rumors of cities evaporating into clouds of smoke. And then another year. And another, until life starts to seem like a dream. If I was a geisha? Did I ever dance with a fan in hand? Who will be the fan? Or paint the lips? And then another year. Ignorance. Fig. Work. Fig. Work. And nothing more.

In life three things matter: sumo, business and war. Understand one, you understand the rest. But what geisha's the interest? You just pull the strings and dance.
- I beg to differ. What is sumo but a dance between giants? What is business but a dance between companies? Interesting, plastic, all types of dance.

When we experience pain, we think that even the trees swaying in the wind, feel sorry for us.

Men are as different from each other as shrubs that bloom at different times of the year.

Misery such a strong wind. I don't mean that he knocks us off the track. He breaks with us and we remain as they actually are, not as they would seem.

I could not even imagine that in me, as in the anthill, can develop such activity.

Yes, the peach tastes great, not less than a wonderful taste of mushrooms, but they are difficult to use at the same time.

In place of the landscape shrouded in snow the trees came the gentle watercolors of spring.

Mom I was compared to water. Water can carve its way even through stone. And when trapped, water makes a new path.