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 of it, a blaze of roughhewn wood like a child's laugh, a symbol of the eternity that preceded human thought, a free fire, a gift from heaven, a living sign of the elements unnoticed by the world-weary pedestrian, a fire in the ditches of Prague warming the wanderer's eye and soul.
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,… - Bohumil Hrabal
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,…
- Bohumil Hrabal
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… - Bohumil Hrabal
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…
I was always lucky in my bad luck. - Bohumil Hrabal
I was always lucky in my bad luck.
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… - Bohumil Hrabal
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…
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… - 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 brai…
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
He was a gentle and sensitive soul, and therefore had a short temper, which is why he went straight after everything with an ax.
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… - 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, y…
I expect them to tell me things about myself I don't know. - Bohumil Hrabal
I expect them to tell me things about myself I don't know.
It's interesting how young poets think of death while old fogies think of girls. - Bohumil Hrabal
It's interesting how young poets think of death while old fogies think of girls.
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