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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

You misinterpret everything, even the silence.
FRANZ KAFKA

Silence Yourself
This tremendous world I have inside of me. How to free myself, and this world, without tearing myself to pieces. And rather tear myself to a thousand pieces than be buried with this world within me.
FRANZ KAFKA

Freedom Myself Philosophy Pieces World
Books are a narcotic.
FRANZ KAFKA

Book One Liner
There is an infinite amount of hope in the universe, but not for us.
FRANZ KAFKA

Break Up Hope Sadness World
Just think how many thoughts a blanket smothers while one lies alone in bed, and how many unhappy dreams it keeps warm.
FRANZ KAFKA

Bed Dream Happiness Lie Thinking
I am dirty, Milena, endlessly dirty, that is why I make such a fuss about cleanliness. None sing as purely as those in deepest hell; it is their singing we take for the singing of angels.
FRANZ KAFKA

Angel Hell Myself Sing
Writing is utter solitude, the descent into the cold abyss of oneself.
FRANZ KAFKA

Cold Deep Oneself Philosophy Solitude Writing
You are the knife I turn inside myself; that is love. That, my dear, is love.
FRANZ KAFKA

Love Yourself
They’re talking about things of which they don’t have the slightest understanding, anyway. It’s only because of their stupidity that they’re able to be so sure of themselves.
FRANZ KAFKA

Stupidity Talk Understand
I think we ought to read only the kind of books that wound and stab us.
FRANZ KAFKA

Book Kind Myself Thinking Wound
The limited circle is pure.
FRANZ KAFKA

Limitation Pure
In man’s struggle against the world, bet on the world.
FRANZ KAFKA

Man Struggle World
No, said the priest, you don’t need to accept everything as true, you only have to accept it as necessary. Depressing view, said K. The lie made into the rule of the world.
FRANZ KAFKA

Acceptance Lie Necessary Need Rule World Yourself
A non-writing writer is a monster courting insanity.
FRANZ KAFKA

Sanity Writing
Sleep is the most innocent creature there is and a sleepless man the most guilty.
FRANZ KAFKA

Guilty Man Wake Up
Evil is whatever distracts.
FRANZ KAFKA

Evil One Liner

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

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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

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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