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You are the knife I turn inside myself; that is love. That, my dear, is love.

Franz Kafka

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.
FRANZ KAFKA

Hold Moments Myself Worth Writing
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
A book must be the axe for the frozen sea within us.
FRANZ KAFKA

Book One Liner Sea
It would have been so pointless to kill himself that, even if he had wanted to, the pointlessness would have made him unable.
FRANZ KAFKA

Death Himself Kill Philosophy
Sleep is the most innocent creature there is and a sleepless man the most guilty.
FRANZ KAFKA

Guilty Man Wake Up
Many a book is like a key to unknown chambers within the castle of one’s own self.
FRANZ KAFKA

Book Philosophy 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
Love is, that you are the knife which I plunge into myself.
FRANZ KAFKA

Deep Love Myself
The limited circle is pure.
FRANZ KAFKA

Limitation Pure
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 never wish to be easily defined. I’d rather float over other people’s minds as something strictly fluid and non-perceivable; more like a transparent, paradoxically iridescent creature rather than an actual person.
FRANZ KAFKA

Easy Mindset Myself People Person
I miss you deeply, unfathomably, senselessly, terribly.
FRANZ KAFKA

Deep I Miss You Myself
Books are a narcotic.
FRANZ KAFKA

Book One Liner
I have spent all my life resisting the desire to end it.
FRANZ KAFKA

Death Desire End Life Myself Resistance
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
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

You are the knife I turn inside myself; that is love. That, my dear, is love.

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You are the knife I turn inside myself; that is love. That, my dear, is love.

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