She had an overwhelming desire to tell him, like the most banal of women. Don't let me go, hold me tight, make me your plaything, your slave, be strong! But they were words she could not say. The only thing she said when he released her from his embrace was, "You don't know how happy I am to be with you." That was the most her reserved nature allowed her to express.
Milan KunderaNo act is of itself either good or bad. Only its place in the order of things makes it good or bad.
Milan KunderaHe was no longer quite sure whether anything he had ever thought or felt was truly his own property, or whether his thoughts were merely a common part of the worldโs store of ideas which had always existed ready-made and which people only borrowed, like books from a library.
Milan KunderaThe first step in liquidating a people is to erase its memory. Destroy its books, its culture, its history. Then have somebody write new books, manufacture a new culture, invent a new history. Before long that nation will begin to forget what it is and what it was... The struggle of man against power is the struggle of memory against forgetting.
Milan Kundera