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"Mother belonged to a realm of other creatures: smaller, lighter, more easily blown away."

Milan Kundera, Czechoslovakian Writer

Tenderness, Mother, Sensitivity, Memory, Loss

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"Mother belonged to a realm of other creatures: smaller, lighter, more easily blown away."

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"You know, sometimes the world seems like a pretty mean place.' 'That's why animals are so soft and huggy."

Bill Watterson, American Cartoonist

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"I do know that I don't want to wake him.We were up very late last night."

Tahereh Mafi, Iranian Author

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"No," Lana said, "I'm not going to heal your scratch.""Good," Sanjit said."Good? Why good?""Because when you hold my hand, I don't want it to be work for you."

Michael Grant, American Author

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"Though just biographical record will touch the failings of the good and the eminent with tenderness."

Anne Seward, British Poet

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"You can't substitute material things for love or for gentleness or for tenderness or for a sense of comradeship. Money is not a substitute for tenderness, and power is not a substitute for tenderness."

Mitch Albom, American Writer

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"Mother belonged to a realm of other creatures: smaller, lighter, more easily blown away."

Milan Kundera, Czechoslovakian Writer

Tenderness, Mother, Sensitivity, Memory, Loss

Explore more quotes by Milan Kundera

"I understand you, and I shall not attempt to make you change your mind. I am too old to want to improve the world. I have told you what I think, and that is all. I shall remain your friend even if you act contrary to my convictions, and I shall help you even if I disagree with you."

"The sound of laughter is like the vaulted dome of a temple of happiness."

"Dogs are our link to paradise. They don't know evil or jealousy or discontent."

"Metaphors are dangerous. Love begins with a metaphor. Which is to say, love begins at the point when a woman enters her first word into our poetic memory."

"In Tereza's eyes, books were the emblems of a secret brotherhood. For she had but a single weapon against the world of crudity surrounding her: the novels. She had read any number of them, from Fielding to Thomas Mann. They not only offered the possibility of an imaginary escape from a life she found unsatisfying; they also had a meaning for her as physical objects: she loved to walk down the street with a book under her arm. It had the same significance for her as an elegant cane from the dandy a century ago. It differentiated her from others."

"The situation is very slightly solemn and thus embarrassing, as are all such situations when after the initial lovemaking, the lovers confront a future they are suddenly required to take on."

"The stupidity of people comes from having an answer for everything. The wisdom of the novel comes from having a question for everything."

"But isn't it true that an author can write only about himself?"

"People meet in the course of life, they talk together, they discuss, they quarrel, without realizing that they're talking to one another across a distance, each from an observation post standing in a different place in time."

"Keep this in mind: it is our religion to praise life. The word "life is the king of words. The kingword surrounded by other grand words. The word "adventure! The word "future! And the word "hope! By the way, do you know the code name for the atomic bomb they dropped on Hiroshima? "Little Boy! That's a genius, the fellow who invented that code! They couldn't have dreamed up a better one. Little boy, kid, tyke, tot - there's no word that's more tender, more touching, more loaded with future."

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