An Unfamiliar House


I do not think I have ever really learned from the past: the last year, the last month, the last minute. Each day has seemed like a new beginning in which to learn everything all over again. Like feeling one’s way in the dark in an un- familiar house. The chairs, the tables, the ornaments all lying in wait, in ambush. One learns where everything is. And then the next day, there is a different house, in a different location. Everything has changed. That’s the way life sometimes appears to be. To me. An unfamiliar house.

- Milan Kundera

Posted in Passages


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