I always loved twilight: it was the only time of day I had the feeling that something important could happen. All things were more beautiful bathed in twilight, all streets, all squares, and all the people walking through them; I… — Bohumil Hrabal Copy Share
“Trembling as usual, I dropped to one knee and, holding on to the drum with one hand, looked up, wondering what he, my boss, had against me, what made him pull such terrifying faces, faces so indignant, so full of suffering that they always made me believe that I was a repulsive person and a hopeless worker who inflicted the… — Bohumil Hrabal Copy Share
“Suddenly the door opened and in stomped a giant reeking of the river, and before anyone knew what was happening, he had grabbed a chair, smashed it in two, and chased the terrified customers into a corner. The three youngsters pressed against the wall like periwinkles in the rain, but at the very last moment, when the man had picked… — Bohumil Hrabal Copy Share
“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… — Bohumil Hrabal Copy Share Image
“I was in harmony with everything and I was saved, too, but lost in a way as well... but I think this will probably… — Bohumil Hrabal Copy Share Image
And so everything I see in this world, it all moves backward and forward at the same time, like a black-smith's bellows, like everything… — Bohumil Hrabal Copy Share Image
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 Copy Share Image
“Writing is a defence against boredom, but it's also a cure for melancholy.” — Bohumil Hrabal Copy Share Image
“Most of all I enjoy central-heating control rooms, where men with higher education, chained to their jobs like dogs to their kennels, write the… — Bohumil Hrabal Copy Share Image
“I cieli non sono umani e la vita sopra di me e sotto di me e dentro di me neppure.” — Bohumil Hrabal Copy Share Image
“... whichever of my friends was and is sensitive, touchy even, had to choose... emigration... and I emigrated inwardly, here to the pub for example...” — Bohumil Hrabal Copy Share Image
