Milan Kundera

“The old duality of body and soul has become shrouded in scientific terminology, and we can laugh at it as merely an obsolete prejudice.But just make someone who has fallen in love listen to his stomach rumble, and the unity of body and soul, that lyrical illusion of the age of science, instantly fades away.”

“Čovjek i ne znajući komponira svoj život prema zakonima ljepote i u trenutcima najdubljeg beznađa.”

“Apoi, într-o zi, m-am apucat să spun ceva ce nu trebuia spus, am fost [...] obligat să ies din horă. Atunci am înţeles semnificaţia magică a cercului. Cînd ieşi din rînd mai poţi reveni. Rîndul este o formatiune deschisă. Cercul însă se închide, şi-l părăseşti fără posibilitatea întoarcerii. Nu întîmplător se mişcă planetele în cerc şi roca desprinsă din ele se îndepărtează inexorabil, dusă de forţa centrifugă. Ca un meteorit smuls dintr-o planetă, am ieşit şi eu din cerc şi căderea mea n-a încetat nici acum. Există oameni cărora le e dat să piară în toiul rotatiei şi altii ce se zdrobesc abia la capătul prăbuşirii. Iar aceşti alţii (între care mă număr şi eu) păstrează mereu în ei o sfioasă nostalgie a horei pierdute, căci noi suntem cu toţii locuitorii unui univers în care totul se învîrteşte în cerc.”

“The future is only an indifferent void no one cares about, but the past is filled with life, and its countenance is irritating, repellent, wounding, to the point that we want to destroy or repaint it. We want to be masters of the future only for the power to change the past.”

“Every one of my novels could be entitled The Unbearable Lightness of Being or The Joke or Laughable Loves; the titles are interchangeable, they reflect the small number of themes that obsess me, define me, and unfortunately, restrict me. Beyond these themes, I have nothing else to say or write.”

“But though predictions may be wrong, they are right about the people who voice them, not about their future but about their experience of the present moment”

“Çünkü herkes ilgisiz bir evren içinde görülüp işitilmeden yokolup gideceği düşüncesiyle acı çekmektedir. Bu yüzden, daha vakit varken, kendisini sözcüklerden oluşan bir evrene dönüştürmek ister.”

“Yataklarına uzanmış olan iki kızkardeş, belirli bir şey için gülmüyorlardı, gülüşlerinin bir hedefi yoktu, bu gülüş varlığın var olmaktan duyduğu sevincin anlatımıydı.”

“Stau întins în pat, cufundat în dulceaţa semisomnului. La ora şase, în prima fază a uşoarei treziri, întind mîna spre micul tranzistor aflat lîngă perna mea şi apăs pe buton. Se aud primele ştiri ale dimineţii... Abia izbutesc să disting cuvintele şi adorm din nou; în felul acesta frazele crainicilor se transformă în vise. E faza cea mai frumoasă a somnului, momentul cel mai încîntător al zilei: datorită radioului gust savoarea neîncetatelor mele adormiri şi treziri — acea sublimă legănare între starea de somn şi trezie, care, în sine, constituie un motiv îndestulător ca omul să nu regrete faptul de a se fi născut.”

“...gülmek, derinlemesine yaşamaktır.”

“Geleceğe egemen olmak istenilmesinin nedeni, geçmişi değiştirecek güce sahip olmaktan başka bir şey değildir.”

“Her kitsch was the image of home, all peace, quiet, and harmony, and ruled by a loving mother and a wise father. It was an image that took shape in her after the death of her parents. The less her life resembled the sweetest of dreams, the more sensitive she was to its magic, and more than once she shed tears when the ungrateful daughter in a sentimental film embraced the neglected father as the windows of the happy family's house shone out into the dying day.”

“Most people willingly deceive themselves with a doubly false faith; they believe in eternal memory (of men, things, deeds, peoples) and in rectification (of deeds, errors, sins, injustice). Both are sham. The truth lies at the opposite end of the scale: everything will be forgotten and nothing will be rectified. All rectification (both vengeance and forgiveness) will be taken over by oblivion.”

“Youth is a terrible thing: it is a stage trod by children in buskins and fancy costumes mouthing speeches they've memorized and fanatically believe but only half understand”

“It was time laid bare, time in and of itself, time at its most basic and primal, and it forced me to call it by its true name (for now I was living pure time—pure, vacant time) so as not to forget it for a moment, keep it constantly before me, and feel its weight.”

“There is no perfection only lifeMilan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness Of Being”

“Once, when he had just lulled her to sleep but she had gone no farther than dream's antechamber and was therefore still responsive to him, he said to her, "Good-bye, I'm going now." "Where?" she asked in her sleep. "Away," he answered sternly. "Then I'm going with you," she said, sitting up in bed. "No, you can't. I'm going away for good," he said, going out into the hall. She stood up and followed him out, squinting. She was naked beneath her short nightdress. Her face was blank, expressionless, but she moved energetically. He walked through the hall of the flat into the hall of the building (the hall shared by all the occupants), closing the door in her face. She flung it open and continue to follow him, convinced in her sleep that he meant to leave her for good and she had to stop him. He walked down the stairs to the first landing and waited for her there. She went down after him, took him by the hand, and led him back to bed.Tomas came to this conclusion: Making love with a woman and sleeping with a woman are two separate passions, not merely different but opposite. Love does not make itself felt in the desire for copulation (a desire that extends to an infinite number of women) but in the desire for shared sleep (a desire limited to one woman).”

“From that time on they both looked forward to sleeping together. I might even say that the goal of their lovemaking was not so much pleasure as the sleep that followed it. She especially was affected. Whenever she stayed overnight in her rented room (which quickly became only an alibi for Tomas), she was unable to fall asleep; in his arms she would fall asleep no matter how wrought up she might have been. He would whisper impromptu fairy tales about her, or gibberish, words he repeated monotonously, words soothing or comical, which turned into vague visions lulling her through the first dreams of the night. He had complete control over her sleep: she dozed off at the second he chose.”

“La vida humana acontece sólo una vez y por eso nunca podremos averiguar cuáles de nuestras decisiones fueron correctas y cuáles fueron incorrectas. En la situación dada sólo hemos podido decidir una vez y no nos ha sido dada una segunda, una tercera, una cuarta vida para comparar las distintas decisiones.”

“we have no idea anymore what it means to feel guilty. The Communists have the excuse that Stalin misled them. Murderers have the excuse that their mothers didn’t love them.. . .No one could be more innocent, in his soul and conscience, than Oedipus. And yet he punished himself when he saw what he had done.”

“If God's masons built real walls, I doubt we'd be able to destroy them. But instead of walls all I see is backdrops, sets. And sets are made to be destroyed.”

“He thus didn’t find himself outside the limits of his experience; he was high above it. His distaste for himself remained down below; down below he had felt his palms become sweaty with fear and his breath speed up; but here, up high in his poem, he was above his paltriness, the key-hole episode and his cowardice were merely a trampoline above which he was soaring; he was no longer subordinate to his experience, his experience was subordinate to what he had written.The next day he used his grandfather’s typewriter to copy the poem on special paper; and the poem seemed even more beautiful to him than when he had recited it aloud, for the poem had ceased to be a simple succession of words and had become a thing; its autonomy was even more incontestable; ordinary words exist only to perish as soon as they are uttered, their only purpose is to serve the moment of communication; subordinate to things they are merely their designations; whereas here words themselves had become things and were in no way subordinate; they were no longer destined for immediate communication and prompt disappearance, but for durability.What Jaromil had experienced the day before was expressed in the poem, but at the same time the experience slowly died there, as a seed dies in the fruit. “I am underwater and my heartbeats make circles on the surface”; this line represents the adolescent trembling in front of the bathroom door, but at the same time his feature in this line, slowly became blurred, this line surpassed and transcended him. “Ah, my aquatic love”, another line said, and Jaromil knew that aquatic love was Magda, but he also knew that no one could recognise her behind these words; that she was lost, invisible, buried there, the poem he had written was absolutely autonomous, independent and incomprehensible as reality itself, which is no one’s ally and content simply to be; the poem’s autonomy provided Jaromil a splendid refuge, the ideal possibility of a second life; he found that so beautiful that the next day he tried to write more poems; and little by little he gave himself over to this activity.”

“Is not an event in fact more significant and noteworthy the greater the number of fortuities necessary to bring it about?”

“In the kingdom of kitsch you would be a monster”

“Xavier disse-lhe para onde iam. Ela respondeu que naquele quarto estava sua casa, enquanto lá onde Xavier queria levá-la não teria nem seu armário de roupas nem seu pássaro na gaiola. Xavier respondeu que um lar não é um armário de roupas nem um pássaro na gaiola, mas a presença de alguém a quem se ama. Disse-lhe depois que ele mesmo não tinha um lar, ou melhor, para exprimir-se de outra maneira, que seu lar estava nos seus passos, na sua caminhada, nas suas viagens. Que seu lar estava onde se abrissem horizontes desconhecidos.”

“She would have liked to tell them that behind Communism, Fascism, behind all occupations and invasions lurks a more basic, pervasive evil and that the image of that evil was a parade of people marching by with raised fists and shouting identical syllables in unison.”

“...because love is continual interrogation. I don't know of a better definition of love.”

“At what exact moment did the real turn into the unreal, reality into reverie? Where was the border? Where is the border?”

“If in the past people would listen to music out of love for music, nowadays it roars everywhere and all the time, "regardless whether we want to hear it", it roars from loudspeakers, in cars, in restaurants, in elevators, in the streets, in waiting rooms, in gyms, in the earpieces of Walkmans, music rewritten, reorchestrated, abridged, and stretched out, fragments of rock, of jazz, of opera, a flood of everything jumbled together so that we don't know who composed it (music become noise is anonymous), so that we can't tell beginning from end (music become noise has no form): sewage-water music in which music is dying.”

“Životopisci neznají sexuální život svých vlastních manželek, ale myslí si, že vědí všechno o pohlavních tajemstvích Stendhala nebo Faulknera.”

“Living, there is no happiness in that. Living: carrying one’s painful self through the world.But being, being is happiness. Being: Becoming a fountain, a fountain on which the universe falls like warm rain.”

“During the twenty years of Odesseus' absence, the people of Ithaca retained many recollections of him but never felt nostalgia for him. Whereas Odysseus did suffer nostalgia, and remembered almost nothing. .....For four long books of the Odyssey he had retraced in detail his adventures before the dazzled Phaeacians. But in Ithaca he was not a stranger, he was one of their own, so it never occurred to anyone to say, 'Tell us!”

“He remained annoyed with himself until he realized that not knowing what he wanted was actually quite natural. We can never know what to want, because, living only one life, we can never compare it with our previous lives nor perfect it in our lives to come.”

“Friendship is indispensable to man for the proper function of his memory. Remembering our past, carrying it with us always, may be the necessary requirement for maintaining, as they say, the wholeness of the self. To ensure that the self doesn't shrink, to see that it holds on to its volume, memories have to be watered like potted flowers, and the watering calls for regular contact with the witnesses of the past, that is to say, with friends. They are our mirror; our memory; we ask nothing of them but that they polish the mirror from time to time so we can look at ourselves in it.”

“Wir alle haben das Bedürfnis, von jemandem gesehen zu werden. Man könnte uns in vier Kategorien einteilen, je nach der Art von Blick, unter dem wir leben möchten. Die erste Kategorie sehnt sich nach dem Blick von unendlich vielen anonymen Augen, anders gesagt, nach dem Blick eines Publikums. Zur zweiten Kategorie gehören die Leute, die zum Leben den Blick vieler vertrauter Augen brauchen. Das sind die nimmer müden Organisatoren von Cocktails und Parties. Sie sind glücklicher als die Menschen der ersten Kategorie, die das Gefühl haben, im Saal ihres Lebens sei das Licht ausgegangen, wenn sie ihr Publikum verlieren. Irgendwann passiert das fast jedem von ihnen. Die Menschen der zweiten Kategorie hingegen, verschaffen sich immer irgendwelche Blicke. Dann gibt es die dritte Kategorie derer, die im Blickfeld des geliebten Menschen sein müssen. Ihre Situation ist genauso gefährlich wie die von Leuten der ersten Kategorie. Einmal schließen sich die Augen des geliebten Menschen und es wird dunkel im Saal. Und dann gibt es noch die vierte und seltenste Kategorie derer, die unter dem imaginären Blick abwesender Menschen leben. Das sind die Träumer.”

“Not even one's own pain weighs so heavy as the pain one feels with someone, for someone, a pain intensified by the imagination and prolonged by a hundred echoes.”

“History is as light as individual human life, unbearably light, light as a feather, as dust swirling into the air, as whatever will no longer exist tomorrow.”

“Sensuality is the total mobilization of the senses: an individual observes his partner intently, straining to catch every sound.”

“vertigo is something other than the fear of falling. It is the voice of emptiness below us which tempts and lures us, it is the desire to fall, against which, terrified, we defend ourselves.”

“Let the planet be convulsed with exploding bombs.”

“Anyone who starts doubting details will end by doubting life itself.”

“We can never know what we want, because, living only one life, we can neither compare it with our previous lives nor perfect it in our lives to come. [...] And what can life be worth if the first rehearsal for life is life itself? That is why life is always like a sketch. No, 'sketch' is not quite the word, because a sketch is an outline of something, the groundwork for a picture, whereas the sketch that is our life is a sketch for nothing, an outline with no picture.”

“Yaradılış Kitabı'nın en başında bize Tanrı'nın insanoğlunu balıklar kuşlar ve tüm yaratıklar üzerinde egemenlik kursun diye yarattığı söylenir. Yaradılış Kitabı'nı yazan insandı elbette, at değil. Tanrı'nın insana hayvanlar üzerinde egemenlik kurma iznini verip vermediği pek belli değil. Daha akla yakın olanı, insanın inekle at üzerinde kurduğu egemenliği kutsasın diye Tanrı'yı yaratmış olması. Evet, bir geyiği ya da ineği öldürme hakkı insanoğlunun üzerinde görüş birliğine vardığı tek şey, en kanlı savaşlar sırasında bile. Bu hakkı verili saymamızın nedeni hiyerarşinin en tepesinde olmamız. Ama hele oyuna üçüncü kişi girsin -kendisine Tanrı tarafından, 'bütün öteki yıldızlardaki yaratıklar üzerinde egemenlik kuracaksın' denen, başka gezegenden bir yaratık - Yaradılış Kitabı'nı elde bir saymamız o an imkansızlaşır. Bir Marslının arabasına koşulan ya da Samanyoluna sakinleri tarafından şişte kızartılan bir insanoğlu belki tabağındaki dana pirzolasını hatırlar da, inekten (çok geç olarak!) özür diler.”

“She began to teeter as she walked, fell almost daily, bumped into things or, at the very least, dropped objects. She was in the grip of an insuperable longing to fall. She lived in a constant state of vertigo. 'Pick me up,' is the message of a person who keeps falling.”

“isn'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?”

“Once upon a time I too thought that the future was the only competent judge of our works and actions. Later on I understood that chasing after the future is the worst conformism of all, a craven flattery of the mighty. For the future is always mightier than the present. It will pass judgement on us, of course. And without any competence.”

“Graphomania (a mania for writing books) inevitably takes on epidemic proportions when a society develops to the point of creating three basic conditions: -(1) an elevated level of general well being which allows people to devote themselves to useless activities(2) a high degree of social atomization and , as a consequence, a general isolation of individuals;(3) the absence of dramatic social changes in the nation's internal life.”

“Whenever I think about ancient cultures nostalgia seizes me. Perhaps this is nothing but envy of the sweet slowness of the history of that time. The era of ancient Egyptian culture lasted for several thousand years; the era of Greek antiquity for almost a thousand. In this respect, a single human life imitates the history of mankind; at first it is plunged into immobile slowness, and then only gradually does it accelerate more and more.”

“Revolution and youth are closely allied. What can a revolution promise to adults? To some it brings disgrace, to others favor. But even that favor is questionable, for it affects only the worse half of life, and in addition to advantages it also entails uncertainty, exhausting activity and upheaval of settled habits.Youth is substantially better off: it is not burdened by guilt, and the revolution can accept young people in toto. The uncertainty of revolutionary times is an advantage for youth, because it is the world of the fathers that is challenged. How exciting to enter into the age of maturity over the shattered ramparts of the adult world!”

“Meni se, međutim, čini da umjesto zidova svuda vidim samo kulise. A razaranje kulisa stvar je dobra i pravedna.”