I expect them to tell me things about myself I don't know..

... 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. ….

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 eve….

He was a gentle and sensitive soul, and therefore had a short temper, which is why he went straight after everything with an ax..

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 ….

I pop a beautiful sentence into my mouth and suck it like a fruit drop..

I was always lucky in my bad luck..

Today's Gypsies, who have lived in Prague for only two generations, light a ritual fire wherever they work, a nomads' fire crackling only for the joy….

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, y….

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 brai….

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 in my press,….

It's interesting how young poets think of death while old fogies think of girls..

To spend our days betting on three-legged horses with beautiful names.

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 i….

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….