Junko Touhou Quotes

I can't understand why men make all this fuss about Everest-it's only a mountain. ~ Junko Tabei

Junko: Your life doesn't belong to you alone... ~ Magica Quartet

Ritsu... Do you like Oda?" More than me?

"Yes. ~ Junko

There was never a question in my mind that I wanted to climb that mountain, no matter what other people said, ~ Junko Tabei

Everest for me, and I believe for the world, is the physical and symbolic manifestation of overcoming odds to achieve a dream ~ Junko Tabei

Junko: That sort of thing happens all the time. You get drunk on your own "correctness," and the more stubborn you get, the further happiness flies away from you. It's a bitter pill to swallow.

Madoka: I wonder if there's any way I can help...

Junko: Even good advice from others won't bring any clear solutions to someone in that frame of mind. ...Even so, you want to find a solution? Then go ahead and screw up. If she's being too correct, then somebody should make mistakes for her.

Madoka: I should screw up...?

Junko: Yep! Tell a really bad lie. Run away in the face of something scary. She may not understand what you're trying to do at first, but there are times when you realize in hindsight that a mistake was the right thing to do... During those times when you're just stuck for an answer, making a mistake is one method of unsticking yourself. Madoka, you've grown up to be a good kid. You don't tell lies, and you don't do bad things. You're a girl who works hard at what she thinks is right. You get an "A" as a child. So before you become an adult, you have to start practicing falling down. You see, we adults have our pride and responsibilities, so it becomes harder and harder to make mistakes. ~ Magica Quartet

Technique and ability alone do not get you to the top; it is the willpower that is the most important. This willpower you cannot buy with money or be given by othersit rises from your heart. ~ Junko Tabei

As usual, Junko thought about Jack London's 'To Build a Fire.' It was the story of a man traveling alone through the snowy Alaskan interior and his attempts to light a fire. He would freeze to death unless he could make it catch. The sun was going down. Junko hadn't read much fiction, but that one short story she had read again and again, ever since her teacher had assigned it as an essay topic during summer vacation of her first year in high school. The scene of the story would always come vividly to mind as she read. She could feel the man's fear and hope and despair as if they were her own; she could sense the very pounding of his heart as he hovered on the brink of death. Most important of all, though, was the fact that the man was fundamentally longing for death. She knew that for sure. She couldn't explain how she knew, but she knew it from the start. Death was really what he wanted. He knew that it was the right ending for him. And yet he had to go on fighting with all his might. He had to fight against an overwhelming adversary in order to survive. What most shook Junko was this deep-rooted contradiction.
The teacher ridiculed her view. 'Death is really what he wanted? That's a new one for me! And strange! Quite 'original,' I'd have to say.' He read her conclusion aloud before the class, and everybody laughed.
But Junko knew. All of them were wrong. Otherwise how could the ending of the story be so quiet and beautiful? ~ Haruki Murakami

Junko: Why don't you find a guy who's a fan of Trapnest, and go to the concert with him?
Kyousuke:Yeah! Do that, Nana. You'll find yourself a boyfriend, and you'll even be able to see the concert! Then you'll be killing two birds with one stone.
Nana Komatsu: I don't want a boyfriend. I'll never fall in love again.
*SILENCE*
Nana Komatsu, thinking: Plus, I've got Nana <3
Junko and Kyousuke, thinking: What will we do? If you take love away from Nana, there's nothing left! ~ Ai Yazawa

It was the first time Junko felt a certain "something" as she watched the flames of a bonfire: "something" deep down, a "wad" of feeling, she might have called it, because it was too raw, too heavy, to real to be called an idea. It coursed through her body and vanished, leaving behind a sweet-sad, chest-gripping, strange sort of feeling. ~ Haruki Murakami