Monday, February 8, 2010

The Unbearable Lightness of Being

The profound moral perversity of a world that rests essentially on non-existence of return.

We live everything as it comes without warning.

What happens but once might as well not happen at all.

The only relationship that can make both partners happy is in which sentimentality has no place and neither partner makes any claim on the life and freedom of the other.

Love does not make itself felt in the desire for copulation but in the desire for shared sleep.

Those years were more attractive in retrospect.

He was enjoying the sweet lightness of being.

Not even one's own pain weighs so heavy as the pain one feels with someone, for someone, a pain intensified by the imagination.

Only necessity is heavy and only what is heavy has value.

Life cannot be an experiment thus there's no room for hypothesis.

Co-incidence means that two events unexpectedly happen at the same time, they meet.

Without realizing it, the individual composes his life according to the laws of beauty even in times of greatest distress.

It could just as well be other ways.

Only chance can speak to us.

Necessity knows no magic formula--they are all left to chance.

If love is to be unforgettable, fortuities will come down to it.

Vertigo is the voice of emptiness below us which tempts and lures us, it is the desire to fall, against which, terrified, we defend ourselves.

She made no response. She could not tell him that she had been waiting.

What we have not chosen we cannot consider either our merit or our failure.

Respect the woman in her.

Noise has one advantage. It drowns our words.

Beauty by mistake

Love means renouncing ones strength.

What must be, must be.

The thing that gives our every move its meaning is always totally unknown to us.

Flirting is a promise of sexual intercourse without a guarantee.

Loves are like empires: when the idea are founded on crumbles, they, too, fade away.

Blissful indifference / beautiful lie

Obsession of the unimaginable

Poetic memory records everything that charms and touches us.

Pleasure without happiness is not pleasure.

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

When the heart speaks, the mind finds it indecent to object.

We can never establish certainty what part of our relations with others is the result of our emotions--love, antipathy, charity or malice--and what part is pre-determined by the constant powerplay among individuals.

Idyll's monotony bred happiness, not boredom.

Her weakness was aggressive.

The sadness meant: we are at the last station. The happiness meant: we are together.

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