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Anyone who keeps the ability to see beauty never grows old.

Franz Kafka

Love is a drama of contradictions.
FRANZ KAFKA

Love One Liner
Now I can look at you in peace; I don’t eat you any more.
FRANZ KAFKA

Eat Myself Peace Yourself
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
Nothing unites two people so completely, especially if, like you and me, all they have is words.
FRANZ KAFKA

People Unity Word
People label themselves with all sorts of adjectives. I can only pronounce myself as ‘nauseatingly miserable beyond repair’.
FRANZ KAFKA

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

Cold Deep Oneself Philosophy Solitude Writing
Believing in progress does not mean believing that any progress has yet been made.
FRANZ KAFKA

Believe Deep Success
Love is, that you are the knife which I plunge into myself.
FRANZ KAFKA

Deep Love Myself
Better to have, and not need, than to need, and not have.
FRANZ KAFKA

Deep Material Need Philosophy
Written kisses don’t reach their destination, rather they are drunk on the way by the ghosts.
FRANZ KAFKA

Destination Kiss Writing
I have hardly anything in common with myself and should stand very quietly in a corner, content that I can breathe.
FRANZ KAFKA

Breathe Myself Quiet
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
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
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
Slept, awoke, slept, awoke, miserable life.
FRANZ KAFKA

Life Wake Up
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

Anyone who keeps the ability to see beauty never grows old.

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Anyone who keeps the ability to see beauty never grows old.

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