black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

Last night I dreamed about you. What happened in detail I can hardly remember, all I know is that we kept merging into one another. I was you, you were me. Finally you somehow caught fire.

Franz Kafka

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
You are at once both the quiet and the confusion of my heart.
FRANZ KAFKA

Heart Myself Quiet Yourself
In a way, you are poetry material; You are full of cloudy subtleties I am willing to spend a lifetime figuring out. Words burst in your essence and you carry their dust in the pores of your ethereal individuality.
FRANZ KAFKA

Life Material Poetry Way Willing Yourself
A non-writing writer is a monster courting insanity.
FRANZ KAFKA

Sanity Writing
The limited circle is pure.
FRANZ KAFKA

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

Bed Dream Easy Himself Morning Transformation Wake Up
It is not necessary to accept everything as true, one must only accept it as necessary.’ ‘A melancholy conclusion,’ said K. ‘It turns lying into a universal principle.
FRANZ KAFKA

Acceptance Lying Necessary Principle True
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.
FRANZ KAFKA

Choice Freedom Happiness Leaving Listen Need Quiet Simplicity Wait World Yourself
The person I am in the company of my sisters has been entirely different from the person I am in the company of other people. Fearless, powerful, surprising, moved as I otherwise am only when I write.
FRANZ KAFKA

Company Different Fear Myself People Person Powerful Writing
Anyone who keeps the ability to see beauty never grows old.
FRANZ KAFKA

Ability Beautiful Growth Old See
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
Many a book is like a key to unknown chambers within the castle of one’s own self.
FRANZ KAFKA

Book Philosophy Yourself
Even the merest gesture is holy if it is filled with faith.
FRANZ KAFKA

Faith Simplicity
I am in chains. Don’t touch my chains.
FRANZ KAFKA

Myself Touch
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
Paths are made by walking
FRANZ KAFKA

Inspirational Path Walk
A First Sign of the Beginning of Understanding is the Wish to Die.
FRANZ KAFKA

Beginning Death Understand
All language is but a poor translation.
FRANZ KAFKA

Language One Liner Poor
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
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
The Kafka paradox: art depends on truth, but truth, being indivisable, cannot know itself: to tell the truth is to lie. Thus the writer is the truth, and yet when he speaks he lies.
FRANZ KAFKA

Art Deep Lying Philosophy Talk Truth Writing
My guiding principle is this: Guilt is never to be doubted.
FRANZ KAFKA

Doubt Guilty Myself Principle
I’m thinking only of my illness and my health, though both, the first as well as the second, are you.
FRANZ KAFKA

Health Myself Thinking Yourself
Even if no salvation should come, I want to be worthy of it at every moment.
FRANZ KAFKA

Moments Myself Worth
I do not read advertisements. I would spend all of my time wanting things.
FRANZ KAFKA

Myself Reading Time
Last night I dreamed about you. What happened in detail I can hardly remember, all I know is that we kept merging into one another. I was you, you were me. Finally you somehow caught fire.
FRANZ KAFKA

Dream Myself Night Remember Yourself
He was a tool of the boss, without brains or backbone.
FRANZ KAFKA

Himself Slave

Last night I dreamed about you. What happened in detail I can hardly remember, all I know is that we kept merging into one another. I was you, you were me. Finally you somehow caught fire.

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Last night I dreamed about you. What happened in detail I can hardly remember, all I know is that we kept merging into one another. I was you, you were me. Finally you somehow caught fire.

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Popular Authors

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