How we cite our quotes: (Part.Chapter.Paragraph), with the exception of Part V, which runs (Part#. "Short Title". Paragraph). Part V has no numbered chapters—only title headings.
Quote #7
He said "That's strange," and his eyes showed the immense astonishment of knowing everything and being able to say nothing. Things had lost their names and were merged into single, undifferentiated being. I was the only one who by talking to him could momentarily retrieve from that wordless infinitude the world of entities with names. (VI.3.3)
In his last illness, Kundera's father loses the ability to speak, even though his mind appears to be active and yearning to communicate. It makes Kundera miserable to think that he lost the opportunity to speak with his father in the years before the old man began to lose his words.
Quote #8
He had never quite known how to understand that silence. Maybe it was because, lovemaking aside, Edwige was always more enterprising than he. Even though she was younger, she had already uttered at least three times as many words and dispensed ten times as much instruction and advice. (VII.1.3)
Jan is speaking here of the total silence that accompanies his lovemaking with Edwige. He feels like they should at least be talking dirty to each other, but neither of them can seem to think of anything to say. He feels like he should be worried about this. In the end, it turns out that Edwige is just a practical person—what do they need to talk about during sex? It's an alienating outlook for Jan.
Quote #9
They were words difficult to pass over in silence, but it was not possible to respond to them either. They did not deserve approval, not being progressive, but neither did they deserve argument, because they were not obviously against progress. They were the worst words possible, because they were situated outside the debate conducted by the spirit of the time. They were words beyond good and evil, perfectly incongruous words. (VII.4.16)
Jan has just walked in on the Clevis family in the middle of a spirited debate: should women still be allowed to sunbathe topless on public beaches? They all agree that tops are evil, but the young daughter has just vented about how women are not sex objects meant for men's pleasure. Her parents are pretty astonished by her precocious language, and her dad tells her that it's pretty easy not to be a sex object.
Kundera assesses this comment from the viewpoint of ideologies: the language Papa Clevis uses doesn't belong to one camp or the other. Papa Clevis' ideas are challenging and inconvenient because of this—and no one has a good response.