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Bohumil Hrabal Quotes

To spend our days betting on three-legged horses with beautiful names Picture Quote #1
Because when I read, I don’t really read; I pop a beautiful sentence into my mouth and suck it like a fruit drop, or I sip it like a liqeur until the thought dissolves in me like alcohol, infusing brain and heart and coursing on through the veins to the root of each blood vessel Picture Quote #1
I expect them to tell me things about myself I don’t know Picture Quote #1
I was always lucky in my bad luck Picture Quote #1
I pop a beautiful sentence into my mouth and suck it like a fruit drop Picture Quote #1
No book worth its salt is meant to put you to sleep, it’s meant to make you jump out of your bed in your underwear and run and beat the author’s brains out Picture Quote #1
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It’s interesting how young poets think of death while old fogies think of girls Picture Quote #1
... because real thoughts come from outside and travel with us like the noodle soup we take to work; in other words, inquisitors burn books in vain. If a book has anything to say, it burns with a quiet laugh, because any book worth its salt points up and out of itself Picture Quote #1
Because when I read, I don’t really read; I pop a beautiful sentence into my mouth and suck it like a fruit drop, or I sip it like a liqeur until the thought dissolves in me like alcohol, infusing brain and heart and coursing on through the veins to the root of each blood vessel Picture Quote #1
He was a gentle and sensitive soul, and therefore had a short temper, which is why he went straight after everything with an ax Picture Quote #1
As I helped him up, I felt him shake all over, so I asked him to forgive me, without knowing what for, but that was my lot, asking forgiveness, I even asked forgiveness of myself for being what I was, what it was my nature to be Picture Quote #1
Lost in my dreams, I somehow cross at the traffic signals, bumping into street lamps or people, yet moving onward, exuding fumes of beer and grime, yet smiling, because my briefcase is full of books and that very night I expect them to tell me things about myself I don’t know Picture Quote #1
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To spend our days betting on three-legged horses with beautiful names  (Bohumil Hrabal Quotes) Because when I read, I don’t really read; I pop a beautiful sentence into my mouth and suck it like a fruit drop, or I sip it like a liqeur until the thought dissolves in me like alcohol, infusing brain and heart and coursing on through the veins to the root of each blood vessel.  (Bohumil Hrabal Quotes) I expect them to tell me things about myself I don’t know  (Bohumil Hrabal Quotes) I was always lucky in my bad luck  (Bohumil Hrabal Quotes) I pop a beautiful sentence into my mouth and suck it like a fruit drop  (Bohumil Hrabal Quotes) No book worth its salt is meant to put you to sleep, it’s meant to make you jump out of your bed in your underwear and run and beat the author’s brains out  (Bohumil Hrabal Quotes) It’s interesting how young poets think of death while old fogies think of girls  (Bohumil Hrabal Quotes) ... because real thoughts come from outside and travel with us like the noodle soup we take to work; in other words, inquisitors burn books in vain. If a book has anything to say, it burns with a quiet laugh, because any book worth its salt points up and out of itself  (Bohumil Hrabal Quotes) Because when I read, I don’t really read; I pop a beautiful sentence into my mouth and suck it like a fruit drop, or I sip it like a liqeur until the thought dissolves in me like alcohol, infusing brain and heart and coursing on through the veins to the root of each blood vessel  (Bohumil Hrabal Quotes) He was a gentle and sensitive soul, and therefore had a short temper, which is why he went straight after everything with an ax  (Bohumil Hrabal Quotes) As I helped him up, I felt him shake all over, so I asked him to forgive me, without knowing what for, but that was my lot, asking forgiveness, I even asked forgiveness of myself for being what I was, what it was my nature to be  (Bohumil Hrabal Quotes) Lost in my dreams, I somehow cross at the traffic signals, bumping into street lamps or people, yet moving onward, exuding fumes of beer and grime, yet smiling, because my briefcase is full of books and that very night I expect them to tell me things about myself I don’t know  (Bohumil Hrabal Quotes)