The novel's spirit is the spirit of complexity. . . . The novel's spirit is the spirity of continuity . . . a thing made to last, to connect the past… - Milan Kundera

True human goodness, in all its purity and freedom, can come to the fore only when its recipient has no power.

A year or two after emigrating, she happened to be in Paris on the anniversary of the Russian invasion of her country. A protest march had been scheduled, and she felt driven to take part. Fists raised high, the young Frenchmen shouted out slogans condemning Soviet imperialism. She liked the slogans, but to her surprise she found herself unable to shout along with them. She lasted only a few minutes in the parade.

When she told her French friends about it, they were amazed. “You mean you don't want to fight the occupation of your country?” 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 with raised fists and shouting identical syllables in unison. But she knew she would never be able to make them understand. Embarrassed, she changed the subject.

للتجديدات الشكلية التي يقوم بها الأساتذة الكبار, دائماً, أمر ما خفي, وتلك هي علامة التجويد الكبرى. التجديد لا يبدو ذا نزوع للفت الإنتباه إلا عند الأساتذة الصغار.