Bokelskere.no

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.

My education has been so unwitting I can't quite tell
which of my thoughts come from me and which from my books,
but that's how I've stayed attuned to myself and the world around me
for the past thirty-five years.
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 liqueur 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.

Bohumil Hrabal