"When you go to a football game and someone offers you a beer [...], they're really saying hi, have a glass of extroversion."

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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.

— Bohumil Hrabal