Winter hurled more wind and rain at the city than it ever had before. Clouds dashed about in all directions emptying their thunder, hail and rain. The horizon was choked in fog.
His suspicion that he was not going in the right direction tortmented him more and more. At last he had the conviction that he would never go anywher… - Ismail Kadaré
His suspicion that he was not going in the right direction tortmented him more and more. At last he had the conviction that he would never go anywher…
- Ismail Kadaré
Can one move an empire as if it were a house? - Ismail Kadaré
Can one move an empire as if it were a house?
I could not understand how people could not like something as beautiful as the aerodrome. But I had lately become convinced that in general people we… - Ismail Kadaré
I could not understand how people could not like something as beautiful as the aerodrome. But I had lately become convinced that in general people we…
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… - Ismail Kadaré
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…
To tell the truth, this was one of the few cases in which she had not told him just what she was thinking. Usually, she let him know whatever thought… - Ismail Kadaré
To tell the truth, this was one of the few cases in which she had not told him just what she was thinking. Usually, she let him know whatever thought…
The writer is always to some extent in exile, wherever he is, because he is somehow outside, separated from others; there is always a distance. - Ismail Kadaré
The writer is always to some extent in exile, wherever he is, because he is somehow outside, separated from others; there is always a distance.
The days were heavy and sticky. All identical, one the same as the other. Soon they would even get rid of their one remaining distinction, the shell … - Ismail Kadaré
The days were heavy and sticky. All identical, one the same as the other. Soon they would even get rid of their one remaining distinction, the shell …
In our city spring came from the sky, not from the soil, which was ruled by stone that recognizes no seasonal change. The change of the season could … - Ismail Kadaré
In our city spring came from the sky, not from the soil, which was ruled by stone that recognizes no seasonal change. The change of the season could …
Not a single thought managed to take shape in her mind: for the likeness of this day to the last seemed to her the clearest proof that it would be an… - Ismail Kadaré
Not a single thought managed to take shape in her mind: for the likeness of this day to the last seemed to her the clearest proof that it would be an…
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