How many Sundays – how many hundreds of Sundays like this – lay ahead of me? "Quiet, peaceful and lonely,” I said aloud to myself. On Sundays i didn't wind my spring. (Haruki Murakami)

How many Sundays – how many hundreds of Sundays like this – lay ahead of me? "Quiet, peaceful and lonely,” I said aloud to myself. On Sundays i didn't wind my spring.

Haruki Murakami

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