Quotes from Richard Lloyd Parry

Tapi, Indonesia menyimpan terlalu banyak rahasia. Dan keanekaragamannya pun amat kelewatan...

Sebagai republik yang merdeka, Indonesia berusia lima puluh tahun, tetapi kedengaran lebih mirip sebuah kekaisaran tak terkendali daripada sebuah negara bangsa modern.

Most of the parents who came to the school were full-time mothers and housewives; most of the villagers offering their opinions were retired, elderly and male. It was another enactment of the ancient dialogue, its lines written centuries ago, between the entreating voices of women, and the oblivious, overbearing dismissiveness of old men.

Everything made by men will be destroyed by nature in the end. Mountains and river, the creations of nature -- they will remain. Everything human, that will go. We nee to reconsider the respect we give to nature.

The true mystery of Okawa school was the one we all face. No mind can encompass it; consciousness recoils in panic. The idea of conspiracy is what we supply to make sense of what will never be sensible— the fiery fact of death. Extinction of life: extinction of a perfect, a beloved child: for eternity. Impossible! the soul cries out. What are they hiding?

The families of the missing are doubly burdened: first by the pain of their ordeal, and then by our expectations of them, expectations of a standard of behavior higher than we require of ourselves. As humans, we seek naturally to help fellow creatures in distress. But most of us, whether we are conscious of it or not, expect something back—the flattery of helplessness and of need.

It is easy to imagine grief as an ennobling, purifying emotion—uncluttering the mind of what is petty and transient, and illuminating the essential. In reality, of course, grief doesn't resolve anything, any more than a blow to the head or a devastating illness. It compounds stress and complication. It multiplies anxiety and tension. It opens fissures into cracks, and cracks into gaping chasms.

The universe wraps everything up inside it, in the end," Kaneta said. "Life, death, grief, anger, sorrow, joy. There was no boundary, then, between the living and the dead. There was no boundary between the selves of the living. The thoughts and feelings of everyone who was there at that moment melted into one. That was the understanding I achieved at that time, and it was what made compassion possible, and love, in something like the Christian sense.

It was a weekday afternoon, and the working people of Kamaya were away at their shops, factories, and offices. Most of the parents who came to the school were full-time mothers and housewives; most of the villagers offering their opinions were retired, elderly, and male. It was another enactment of the ancient dialogue, its lines written centuries ago, between the entreating voices of women and the oblivious, overbearing dismissiveness of old men.

The books beside my bed are like the expensive, and suspiciously unsullied, pair of running shoes in the cupboard: an aspiration, and a symbol of the man I would like to be rather than the one I truly am.

Christa had quickly discovered one of the defining features of life as a foreigner in Japan and the reason it attracts so many misfits of different kinds: personal alienation, that inescapable sense of being different from everyone else, is canceled out by the larger, universal alienation of being a gaijin.

Even those we know best are strangers, whom we understand, if we ever do, intermittently.

It was bitterly cold, and the darkness was overwhelming. Everyone who lived through that night was amazed by the intense clarity of the sky overhead and the brightness of the stars. They found themselves in a land without power, television, telephones, a place suddenly plucked up and folded into a pocket of time, disconnected from the twenty-first century.

At a refugee community in Onagawa, an old neighbor would appear in the living rooms of the temporary houses and sit down for a cup of tea with their startled occupants. No one had the heart to tell her that she was dead; the cushion on which she had sat was wet with seawater.

The earthquake is the thing that all humans face: the banal inevitability of death. We don't know when it will come, but we know that it will. We take refuge in elaborate and ingenious precautions, but in the end they are all in vain. We think about it even when we are not thinking about it; after a while, it seems to define what we are. It comes most often for the old, but we feel it most cruelly when it also takes away the young.

A buckled car protruded from the window of one of the upper classrooms.

low expectations are corrosive to a democratic system.

Lucie disappeared on Saturday, July 1, 2000, at the midpoint of the first year of the twenty-first century. It took a week for the news to reach the world at large. The first report appeared the following Sunday, July 9, when a British newspaper carried a short article about a missing tourist named "Lucy Blackman." There were more detailed stories the next day in the British and Japanese papers.

As humans, we seek naturally to help fellow creatures in distress. But most of us, whether we are conscious of it or not, expect something back – the flattery of helplessness and of need.

The most important thing of all is to stay supple and flexible," he said. "The moment you will be most stiff is when you die—you never get stiffer than that. So you've got to sleep well, eat well, and keep moving.

There was no advance warning, no marginal area of incremental damage. The wave had come in with full force, spent itself and stopped at a point as clearly defined as the reach of a high tide. Above it, nothing had been touched; below it, everything was changed.

Japanese gaman is not a philosophical concept. The conventional translations fail to convey the passivity and abnegation that the idea contains, the extent to which gaman often seems indistinguishable from a collective lack of self-esteem. Gaman was the force that united the reeling refugees in the early days after the disaster; but it was also what neutered politics, and permitted the Japanese to feel that they had no individual power over and no responsibility for their national plight.

among the country's senior

And then something comes over you, and then suddenly it's as if you lift off the planet, and you're far above, looking down, and you've got to find this person, like the needle in the proverbial haystack. It's very strange. I could never express what that felt like. The feeling when you've lost something- that's bad enough. But when you've lost someone, it's awful.