Found 431 results
25.9s
A number of years ago, while suffering from a mild case of "Scribe's Fever," a form of neurasthenia common among the intelligentsia of that time, I decided to spend the month of August in the spa town of Nebelsbad below the Alpine Sudetenwaltz, and had taken up rooms in the Grand Budapest, a picturesque, elaborate, and once widely celebrated establishment. I expect some of you will know it.
The Grand Budapest Hotel
41s
Something's missing. A crucial document, either misplaced or, conceivably, destroyed. I don't know what it contains, I don't know what it represents, I don't know what it is, but there are traces and shadows of it everywhere. Now, I don't want to alarm you, and I don't expect to see any significant change in the magistrate's ultimate decision vis-à-vis your own inheritance, but, especially given the circumstances of the death, as well as the disappearance of the key witness in the murder case, Serge X, I suggest that we immediately bring this matter to the attention of the municipal inspector so that there can be absolutely no question of impropriety at any future date. Agreed? Not agreed.
The Grand Budapest Hotel
33.8s
It is an extremely common mistake, people think the writer's imagination is always at work, that he's constantly inventing an endless supply of incidents and episodes, that he simply dreams up his stories out of thin air. In point of fact, the opposite is true. Once the public knows you're a writer, they bring the characters and events to you and as long as you maintain your ability to look and to carefully listen, these stories will continue to... Stop it. Stop it! Don't! Don't do it!
The Grand Budapest Hotel
36.1s
YOUNG WRITER: It was off season and, by that time, decidedly out of fashion, and it had already begun its descent into shabbiness and eventual demolition. What few guests we were had quickly come to recognize one another by sight as the only living souls residing in the vast establishment, although I do not believe any acquaintance among our number had proceeded beyond the polite nods we exchanged as we passed in the Palm Court, in the Arabian baths, and on board the Colonnade Funicular. We were a very reserved group, it seemed, and, without exception, solitary.
The Grand Budapest Hotel
22.6s
However, this premature intermission in the story of the curious, old man had left me, as the expression goes, "gespannt wie ein Flitzebogen," that is, on the edge of my seat, where I remained throughout the next morning, until, in what I have found to be its mysterious and utterly reliable fashion, fate, once again, intervened on my behalf.
The Grand Budapest Hotel