An Albanian’s house is the dwelling of God and the guest.’ Of God and the guest, you see. So before it is the house of its master, it is the house of one’s guest. The guest, in an Albanian’s life,… — Ismail Kadaré Copy Share Image
A mountaineer’s house, before being his home and the home of his family, is the home of God and of guests. — Ismail Kadaré Copy Share Image
“This is how things come to pass in the world,' one of the princes is supposed to have said. 'Blood flows one way in… — Ismail Kadare Copy Share Image
“Thick smoke like a herd of black horses was rising over the massive building and being blown around by the wind.” — Ismail Kadare Copy Share Image
“Divizije, pukovnije, batoljoni, čete, jedinice svih vrsta pomiješat će se u gomili lijesova. Potom će ih ukrcati u veliki brod koji će tromo isploviti… — Ismail Kadaré Copy Share Image
“At street corners, where walls join, I thought I could see some familiar features, like outlines of human faces, the shadows of cheekbones and… — Ismail Kadaré Copy Share Image
“E ke menduar se po te largohesh kaq shume nga jeta njerezore, nga ajo qe ti me perbuzje e quan "malli i jetes", mund… — Ismail Kadaré Copy Share Image
“The pyramid is the pillar that holds power aloft. If it wavers,everything collapses.” — Ismail Kadare Copy Share Image
“My streets, my cistern. My old house. Its beams, floorboards and staircase creaked slightly, almost imperceptibly, with a dry, uniform, almost constant cracking sound.… — Ismail Kadare Copy Share Image
“Some people,” the Vizier went on, “think it’s the world of anxieties and dreams – your world, in short – that governs this one.… — Ismail Kadaré Copy Share Image
Who in the world has not yearned for a loved one, has never said, If only he or she could come back just once,… — Ismail Kadaré Copy Share Image
“Who can say it’s not what we see with our eyes open that is distorted, and that what’s described here isn’t the true essence… — Ismail Kadaré Copy Share Image
“Sunday had spread all over the city. It looked as if the sun had smacked into the earth and broken into pieces and chunks… — Ismail Kadare Copy Share Image
Dictatorship and authentic literature are incompatible... The writer is the natural enemy of dictatorship. — Ismail Kadaré Copy Share Image
I could not understand how people could not like something as beautiful as the aerodrome. But I had lately become convinced that in general… — Ismail Kadaré Copy Share Image
“I couldn't get to sleep. The book lay nearby. A thin object on the divan. So strange. Between two cardboard covers were noises, doors,… — Ismail Kadare Copy Share Image
