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 KAFKABy believing passionately in something that still does not exist, we create it. The nonexistent is whatever we have not sufficiently desired.
More Franz Kafka Quotes
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Books are a narcotic.
FRANZ KAFKA -
I’m thinking only of my illness and my health, though both, the first as well as the second, are you.
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Kill me, or you are a murderer.
FRANZ KAFKA -
You are at once both the quiet and the confusion of my heart.
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Believing in progress does not mean believing that any progress has yet been made.
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Do you know, darling? When you became involved with others you quite possibly stepped down a level or two, but If you become involved with me, you will be throwing yourself into the abyss.
FRANZ KAFKA -
You only need to change your direction, said the cat, and ate it up.
FRANZ KAFKA -
A book must be the axe for the frozen sea within us.
FRANZ KAFKA -
Should I be grateful or should I curse the fact that despite all misfortune I can still feel love, an unearthly love but still for earthly objects.
FRANZ KAFKA -
Just think how many thoughts a blanket smothers while one lies alone in bed, and how many unhappy dreams it keeps warm.
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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 -
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 KAFKA -
You do not need to leave your room. Remain sitting at your table and listen. Do not even listen, simply wait, be quiet, still and solitary. The world will freely offer itself to you to be unmasked, it has no choice, it will roll in ecstasy at your feet.
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Paths are made by walking
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There art two cardinal sins from which all others spring: Impatience and Laziness.
FRANZ KAFKA