The serial number of a human specimen is the face, that accidental and unrepeatable combination of features. It reflects neither character nor soul, nor what we call the self. The face is only the serial number of a specimen
Milan KunderaMots clés face
How could she feel nostalgia when he was right in front of her? How can you suffer from the absence of a person who is present?
You can suffer nostalgia in the presence of the beloved if you glimpse a future where the beloved is no more
Mots clés nostalgia
[B]ut pain doesn't listen to reason, it has it's own reason, which is not reasonable.
Milan KunderaMots clés pain
The reign of imagology begins where history ends
Milan KunderaMots clés imagology
La honte n'a pas pour fondement une faute que nous aurions commise,
mais l'humiliation que nous éprouvons à être ce que nous sommes sans l'avoir choisi, et la sensation insupportable que cette humiliation est visible de partout.
تمامی محکومیت انسان در این جمله نهفته است: زمان بشری دایرهوار نمیگذرد، بلکه به خط مستقیم پیش میرود. و به همین دلیل انسان نمیتواند خوشبخت باشد چرا که خوشبختی تمایل به تکرار است..!!
Milan KunderaMa è proprio il debole che deve saper essere forte e andar via, quando il forte è troppo debole per poter fare del male al debole.
Milan KunderaMots clés love
All this time he was sitting up in bed and looking at the woman who was lying beside him and holding his hand in her sleep. He felt an ineffable love for her. Her sleep must have been very light at the moment because she opened her eyes and gazed up at him questioningly.
“What are you looking at?” she asked.
He knew that instead of waking her he should lull her back to sleep, so he tried to come up with an answer that would plant the image of a new dream in her mind.
“I’m looking at the stars,” he said.
“Don’t say you’re looking at the stars. That’s a lie. You’re looking down.”
“That’s because we’re on an airplane. The stars are below us.”
“Oh, in an airplane,” said Tereza, squeezing his hand even tighter and falling asleep again. And Tomas knew that Tereza was looking out of the round window of an airplane flying high above the stars.
Mots clés love
الخلط بين المظهر الجسدي للمحبوبة ومظهر آخر: كم مرة سبق له ان عاش ذلك؟ عاشه دائماً بالدهشة ذاتها: هل الفرق بينها وبين الآخريات إذن بهذه الضآلة؟ كيف يمكن أن لا يعرف كيف يتعرف على طيب أحب الكائنات إليه، طيب الكائن الذي يعده لا مثيل له؟!
Milan Kunderaisn't beer the holy libation of sincerity? the potion that dispels all hypocrisy, any charade of fine manners? the drink that does nothing worse than incite its fans to urinate in all innocence, to gain weight in all frankness?
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