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Just think how many thoughts a blanket smothers while one lies alone in bed, and how many unhappy dreams it keeps warm.

Franz Kafka

The Kafka paradox: art depends on truth, but truth, being indivisable, cannot know itself: to tell the truth is to lie. Thus the writer is the truth, and yet when he speaks he lies.
FRANZ KAFKA

Art Deep Lying Philosophy Talk Truth Writing
You can hold yourself back from the sufferings of the world, that is something you are free to do and it accords with your nature, but perhaps this very holding back is the one suffering you could avoid.
FRANZ KAFKA

Avoid Freedom Hold Nature Suffering World Yourself
I dream of a grave, deep and narrow, where we could clasp each other in our arms as with clamps, and I would hide my face in you and you would hide your face in me, and nobody would ever see us any more
FRANZ KAFKA

Dream Each Other Hide Myself See
What if I slept a little more and forgot about all this nonsense.
FRANZ KAFKA

Escape Forget Myself
I need solitude for my writing; not ‘like a hermit’ – that wouldn’t be enough – but like a dead man.
FRANZ KAFKA

Dead Enough Man Myself Need Pain Solitude Writing
From a certain point onward there is no longer any turning back. That is the point that must be reached.
FRANZ KAFKA

Inspirational Philosophy
I’m tired, can’t think of anything and want only to lay my face in your lap, feel your hand on my head and remain like that through all eternity.
FRANZ KAFKA

Feeling Forever Hands Myself Thinking
Better to have, and not need, than to need, and not have.
FRANZ KAFKA

Deep Material Need Philosophy
Beyond a certain point there is no return. This point has to be reached.
FRANZ KAFKA

Beyond Inspirational Return
Forget everything. Open the windows. Clear the room. The wind blows through it. You see only its emptiness, you search in every corner and don’t find yourself.
FRANZ KAFKA

Empty Forget Philosophy Search Yourself
It’s only because of their stupidity that they’re able to be so sure of themselves.
FRANZ KAFKA

Philosophy Stupidity
Even if no salvation should come, I want to be worthy of it at every moment.
FRANZ KAFKA

Moments Myself Worth
Now I can look at you in peace; I don’t eat you any more.
FRANZ KAFKA

Eat Myself Peace Yourself
Written kisses don’t reach their destination, rather they are drunk on the way by the ghosts.
FRANZ KAFKA

Destination Kiss Writing
Writing is utter solitude, the descent into the cold abyss of oneself.
FRANZ KAFKA

Cold Deep Oneself Philosophy Solitude Writing
You are at once both the quiet and the confusion of my heart; imagine my heartbeat when you are in this state.
FRANZ KAFKA

Heart Imagination Quiet Yourself

Just think how many thoughts a blanket smothers while one lies alone in bed, and how many unhappy dreams it keeps warm.

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Just think how many thoughts a blanket smothers while one lies alone in bed, and how many unhappy dreams it keeps warm.

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Popular Authors

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