I am always trying to convey something that can’t be conveyed, to explain something which is inexplicable, to tell about something I have in my bones, something which can be expressed only in the bones.
FRANZ KAFKAI need solitude for my writing; not ‘like a hermit’ – that wouldn’t be enough – but like a dead man.
More Franz Kafka Quotes
-
-
I am free and that is why I am lost.
FRANZ KAFKA -
Love is a drama of contradictions.
FRANZ KAFKA -
In a way, you are poetry material; You are full of cloudy subtleties I am willing to spend a lifetime figuring out. Words burst in your essence and you carry their dust in the pores of your ethereal individuality.
FRANZ KAFKA -
What if I slept a little more and forgot about all this nonsense.
FRANZ KAFKA -
May I kiss you then? On this miserable paper? I might as well open the window and kiss the night air.
FRANZ KAFKA -
I do not speak as I think, I do not think as I should, and so it all goes on in helpless darkness.
FRANZ KAFKA -
It certainly was not my intention to make you suffer, yet I have done so; obviously it never will be my intention to make you suffer, yet I shall always do so.
FRANZ KAFKA -
For myself I am too heavy, and for you too light.
FRANZ KAFKA -
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 -
Last night I dreamed about you. What happened in detail I can hardly remember, all I know is that we kept merging into one another. I was you, you were me. Finally you somehow caught fire.
FRANZ KAFKA -
I miss you deeply, unfathomably, senselessly, terribly.
FRANZ KAFKA -
You are at once both the quiet and the confusion of my heart; imagine my heartbeat when you are in this state.
FRANZ KAFKA -
Slept, awoke, slept, awoke, miserable life.
FRANZ KAFKA -
I can love only what I can place so high above me that I cannot reach it.
FRANZ KAFKA -
Many a book is like a key to unknown chambers within the castle of one’s own self.
FRANZ KAFKA