Jealousy isn't a pleasant quality, but if it isn't overdone (and if it's combined with modesty), apart from its inconvenience there's even something … - Milan Kundera

ما أن يكون هناك شاهد علي أعمالنا حتي نتأقلم طوعا أو كرها مع النواظر التي تراقبنا, فلا يعود أي شئ مما نقوم به حقيقيا. أن نحظي بجمهور أو أن نفكر بجمهور فهذا يعني أن نعيش في الكذب.

I beg you friend, be happy. I have the vague sense that on your capacity to be happy hangs our only hope.

Noise has one advantage. It drowns out words. And suddenly he realized that all his life he had done nothing but talk, write, lecture, concoct sentences, search for formulations and amend them, so in the end no words were precise, their meanings were obliterated, their content lost, they turned into trash, chaff dust, sand; prowling through his brain, tearing at his head. they were his insomnia, his illness. And what he yearned for at that moment, vaguely, but with all his might, was unbounded music, absolute sound, a pleasant and happy all-encompassing, over-poering, window-rattling din to engulf, once and for all, the pain, the futility, the vanity of words. Music was the negation of sentences, music was the anti-word!