“Cemeteries in Bohemia are like gardens. The graves are covered with grass and colorful flowers. Modest tombstones are lost in the greenery. When the sun goes down, the cemetery sparkles with tiny candles. It looks as though the dead are dancing at a children’s ball. Yes, a children’s ball, because the dead are as innocent as children. No matter how brutal life becomes, peace always reigns in the cemetery. Even in wartime, in Hitler’s time, in Stalin’s time, through all occupations. When she felt low, she would get into the car, leave Prague far behind, and walk through one or another of the country cemeteries she loved so well. Against a backdrop of blue hills, they were as lovely as a lullaby.”
— The Unbearable Lightness of Being; Milan Kundera (via woollymammoth)
8:09 pm • 13 May 2011 • 48 notes
this is what extreme unhappiness looks like.
it’s a complete let down.
11:55 pm • 6 May 2011