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Beyond a certain point there is no return. This point has to be reached.

Franz Kafka

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

Cold Deep Oneself Philosophy Solitude Writing
You misinterpret everything, even the silence.
FRANZ KAFKA

Silence Yourself
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
Don’t bend; don’t water it down; don’t try to make it logical; don’t edit your own soul according to the fashion. Rather, follow your most intense obsessions mercilessly.
FRANZ KAFKA

Fashion Inspirational Logic Soul Yourself
May I kiss you then? On this miserable paper? I might as well open the window and kiss the night air.
FRANZ KAFKA

Kiss Misery Myself Night Paper Yourself
A First Sign of the Beginning of Understanding is the Wish to Die.
FRANZ KAFKA

Beginning Death Understand
Most men are not wicked, They are sleep-walkers, not evil evildoers.
FRANZ KAFKA

Deep Evil Man Walk
Logic may indeed be unshakeable, but it cannot withstand a man who is determined to live.
FRANZ KAFKA

Determination Live Logic Man
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 write differently from what I speak, I speak differently from what I think, I think differently from the way I ought to think, and so it all proceeds into deepest darkness.
FRANZ KAFKA

Darkness Deep Different Myself Talk Thinking Writing
I cannot make you understand. I cannot make anyone understand what is happening inside me. I cannot even explain it to myself.
FRANZ KAFKA

Explanation Myself Understand
The meaning of life is that it stops.
FRANZ KAFKA

Death Life One Liner Philosophy
What if I slept a little more and forgot about all this nonsense.
FRANZ KAFKA

Escape Forget Myself
Was he an animal, that music could move him so? He felt as if the way to the unknown nourishment he longed for were coming to light.
FRANZ KAFKA

Animal Himself Light Music
I can love only what I can place so high above me that I cannot reach it.
FRANZ KAFKA

Love Myself Place
The limited circle is pure.
FRANZ KAFKA

Limitation Pure

Beyond a certain point there is no return. This point has to be reached.

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Beyond a certain point there is no return. This point has to be reached.

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