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I cannot make you understand. I cannot make anyone understand what is happening inside me. I cannot even explain it to myself.

Franz Kafka

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

Beyond Inspirational Return
I have spent all my life resisting the desire to end it.
FRANZ KAFKA

Death Desire End Life Myself Resistance
Kill me, or you are a murderer.
FRANZ KAFKA

Deep Kill Myself One Liner
Writing is utter solitude, the descent into the cold abyss of oneself.
FRANZ KAFKA

Cold Deep Oneself Philosophy Solitude Writing
The limited circle is pure.
FRANZ KAFKA

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

Heart Imagination Quiet Yourself
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
Slept, awoke, slept, awoke, miserable life.
FRANZ KAFKA

Life Wake Up
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
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
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
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
Sleep is the most innocent creature there is and a sleepless man the most guilty.
FRANZ KAFKA

Guilty Man Wake Up
Evil is whatever distracts.
FRANZ KAFKA

Evil One Liner

I cannot make you understand. I cannot make anyone understand what is happening inside me. I cannot even explain it to myself.

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I cannot make you understand. I cannot make anyone understand what is happening inside me. I cannot even explain it to myself.

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Popular Authors

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