“Hold fast to the diary from today on! Write regularly! Don’t surrender! Even if no salvation should come, I want to be worthy of it every moment.”

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.

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

The meaning of life is that it stops.

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.

In man’s struggle against the world, bet on the world.

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.

What am I doing here in this endless winter?

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.

First impressions are always unreliable.

I miss you deeply, unfathomably, senselessly, terribly.

Books are a narcotic.

All I am is literature, and I am not able or willing to be anything else.

As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic insect.

My guiding principle is this: Guilt is never to be doubted.

You are at once both the quiet and the confusion of my heart; imagine my heartbeat when you are in this state.

Nothing unites two people so completely, especially if, like you and me, all they have is words.

I hold that a man should strive to the uttermost for his life’s set prize.

What’s a man’s age? He must hurry more, that’s all; Cram in a day, what his youth took a year to hold.

I don’t know what my future holds but its not your hand.

Therefore, I do not wish to consider any proposition to cede any portion of our tribal holdings to the Great Father.

I believe in God. When everything collapses, we grip the last hold, we look from the secure haven how the godless society of the old, holy Europe falls apart. May the game begin.

Life is not a matter of holding good cards, but sometimes, playing a poor hand well.

It’s just amazing how many companies suddenly want you to hold up their products after you’ve held up the Stanley Cup.

At odd and unpredictable times, we cling in fright to the past .