The Joke

by Milan Kundera

When music plays, we hear the melody, forgetting that it is only one of the modes of time; when the orchestra falls silent, we hear time; time itself.

Drunkards are the most loyal supporters of folk festivals. The last supporters. Once in a while, at least, they have a noble pretext for taking a drink.

I understood why the king’s face must be veiled! Not that he should not be seen, but that he should not see!