Remembering now all those farewells (fake farewells, worked-up farewells), Irena thinks: a person who messes up her goodbyes shouldn’t expect much from her re-unions.

People fascinated by the idea of progress never suspect that every step forward is also a step on the way to the end.

Aren't we living in a world where heedless men only desire decapitated women?

Common European thought is the fruit of the immense toil of translators. Without translators, Europe would not exist; translators are more important than members of the European Parliament.

Which doesn't mean, of course, that I'd stopped loving her, that I'd forgotten her, or that her image had paled; on the contrary; in the form of a quiet nostalgia she remained constantly within me; I longed for her as one longs for something definitively lost.

But what had happened, had happened, and it was no longer possible to right anything.

Even in the game there lurks a lack of freedom; even in a game is a trap for the players.