He suddenly recalled the famous myth from Plato's Symposium: People were hermaphrodites until God split them in two, and now all the halves wander th… - Milan Kundera

Love is the longing for the half of ourselves we have lost.

When I described Madame de T's night, I recalled the well-known equation from one of the first chapters of the textbook of existential mathematics: the degree of speed is directly proportional to the intensity of forgetting. From that equation we can deduce various corrollaries, for instance this one: our period is given over to the demon of speed, and that is the reason it so easily forgets its own self. Now I would reverse that statement and say: our period is obsessed by the desire to forget, and it is to fulfill that desire that it gives over to the demon of speed; it picks up the pace to show us that it no longer wishes to be remembered; that it is tired of itself; sick of itself; that it wants to blow out the tiny trembling flame of memory.

... characters are not born like people, of woman; they are born of a situation, a sentence, a metaphor containing in a nutshell a basic human possibility that the author thinks no one else has discovered or said something essential about.

پرسش بااهمیت را فقط یک کودک می‌تواند طرح کند. درواقع همیشه ساده‌ترین پرسش‌ها بااهمیت‌ترین پرسش‌هاست و پاسخی برای آنها وجود ندارد. پرسش‌هایی که نمی‌توان به آنها پاسخ داد، درست همان چیزی است که محدودیت‌های امکانات بشر را نشان می‌دهد و مرزهای هستی ما را تعیین می‌کند.