Bohumil Hrabal quotes

It's interesting how young poets think of death while old fogies think of girls. (Bohumil Hrabal)
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. View quote
Bohumil Hrabal
I was always lucky in my bad luck. View quote
Bohumil Hrabal
I pop a beautiful sentence into my mouth and suck it like a fruit drop. View quote
Bohumil Hrabal
I can be by myself because I'm never lonely, I'm simply alone, living in my heavily populated solitude, a harum-scarum of infinity and eternity, and Infinity and Eternity seem to take a liking to the likes of me. View quote
Bohumil Hrabal
He was a gentle and sensitive soul, and therefore had a short temper, which is why he went straight after everything with an ax... View quote
Bohumil Hrabal
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. View quote
Bohumil Hrabal
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. View quote
Bohumil Hrabal
I expect them to tell me things about myself I don't know. View quote
Bohumil Hrabal
... 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. View quote
Bohumil Hrabal
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)