Wouldn't it be okay if the stories written on each leaf were put into someone's bookmark and then blown away by the wind?
Like the bookkeeper who wrote a diary like a radio message to the nameless members of the Goodnight Club, I, too, convey the words of this book to readers somewhere out there.
If there are people who will listen to me comfortably, I could not ask for more.
It's late at night now... and night is a good time for talking.
--- p.9

Now, once or twice a year, I go to bulletin boards that no one visits by myself.
I click on the titles that seem to have been left behind and read them blankly, and only then do I realize it.
Loneliness must be recorded.
There are far more days that are not recorded than days that are recorded, and ironically, many of those days are days that were not lonely.
I decided to remember the empty days I lived through without even having time to feel lonely.
Ordinary days without name tags that were not recorded.
Those days when I was young and innocent, when life was smooth and no one cried except the willow tree, and when I was grateful for the dream next to my pillow.
--- pp.22-23

When something breaks, there are people who fix it quickly and people who leave it alone for a while.
I may be making excuses for my habit of leaving it alone for months or years, but since it's broken, I feel like I should just give it a rest.
When I see a convenience store that's brightly lit 24 hours a day, I sometimes want to close the shutters.
Even once a year, no, even once every three years.
It seems like the heart never rests even once throughout its life, so when you think about it, how sincere and arduous is our 'heart'?
The moment I first rested was the moment when everything was over, so I wanted to put my hand on my left chest and whisper, "Thank you."
--- pp.58-59

I want to tell that girl.
'If I had been born in the Middle Ages, I think I would have been fooled by a sorcerer who claimed to be a panacea rather than by alchemy.
He might have spent his whole life grazing in the fields and working as an assistant.
It's not strange.
Alchemy was a man's magic, and panaceas were a woman's magic.
If you look at the fact that she was burned at the stake as a witch, it seems like making gold was okay, but making medicine was not.
In that case, it would have been better to become the real witches of the wasteland in Macbeth.
right?'
I wish Doolyeong could hear me smile.
And I want to boil all kinds of mysterious things in a big cauldron together to make a magic potion.
--- pp.80-81

His expression as he prepares tea for his fans is affectionate and kind.
With a small microphone pinned to his lapel, he makes witty remarks and makes fans laugh.
The blended tea born today may be nothing more than a transfer of his image floating around the world, but I decide to think that it is not unlike him.
If you look at someone for that long, you might be able to see a piece of their true self.
The blue banner hanging on the tea room wall finally comes into view.
A car for him.
Tea for him and you.
--- pp.86-87

Sometimes I really wonder.
What is it about the eyes that really allows us to see the essence of another person?
It's not even iris recognition that scans in an instant.
But rather than needlessly nitpicking about the unwavering faith that is passed down, I too would like to carefully analyze the unique gaze of those I love.
What elements are contained and shining in the eyes?
--- pp.152-153

Su-an closed her eyes as I told her.
I whispered like a spell.

You just have to make fond memories.
You can erase scary memories.

When I opened my eyes again, my hands were clean and fine.
It doesn't hurt, the child says.
I was truly happy.
I always felt sorry for Su-an.
That we couldn't be together.
But now we are together like this.
Forever.
--- pp.178-179

We are no longer Christopher Robin with a bright future, but Winnie the Pooh, now grown and destined to live in the Hundred Acre Wood with his small, rambunctious friends, but we will tell you this instead.
Good Times Never Saw So Good--- pp.
You don't know that when times are good.
So please know that those were good days, that they are good days now, and that they will be good days in the future.
All we have to do is not forget that the ordinary days that pass by us are good days and recognize them.
--- p.290

So I guess I wanted to say these words to Eunseop, the character in the novel.
“That’s exactly what it says.
“Always to you.”
Haewon, who Eunseop loves, was someone who had been hurt a lot by people.
Haewon goes to the cabin behind the mountain to look for him on a winter night and gets lost. When Eunseop tries to find her and go down the mountain with her, they misunderstand for a moment.
Is it because she doesn't like going to the cabin?
It seems like he doesn't want to let you into his space.
Eunseop says, embracing Haewon.
It's cold in the cabin right now, and that's the only reason.
There is no other meaning to that statement.
I was grateful that Eunseop was a character who could say things like that.
I wanted to write this line so I gave up the potentially romantic setting of the two spending the night together in a cabin in the woods.
Even if we couldn't spend another night together, I wanted to tell Haewon that 'it's exactly as you said.'
--- pp.294-295

In a previous interview at a bookstore, a reporter asked me if I had a "life theme I want to write about for the rest of my life." To be honest, I didn't know what the theme would be, but I simply answered that this life is all about tribute.
I think it will be a life where I constantly mutter that I love the things I like and love… .
Days that are not enough to even confess my affection.
It may seem like a memory hoarding syndrome where I live with a lot of miscellaneous things, but I want to be someone who remembers and writes down a lot of things, like I once thought in Singa's room.

--- p.325