A person is nothing but his image. Philosophers can tell us that it doesn't matter what the world thinks of us, that nothing matters but what we really are. But philosophers don't understand anything. As long as we live with other people, we are only what other people consider us to be. Thinkingabout how others see us and trying to make our image as attractive as possible is considered a kind of dissembling or cheating. But doesthere exist another kind of direct contact between my self and their selves except through the mediation of the eyes? Can we possiblyimagine love without anxiously following our image in the mind of the beloved? When we are no longer interested in how we are seen bythe person we love, it means we no longer love.
( Milan Kundera )
[ Immortality ]
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