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What am I doing here in this endless winter?

Franz Kafka

For myself I am too heavy, and for you too light.
FRANZ KAFKA

Light Myself Yourself
We photograph things in order to drive them out of our minds. My stories are a way of shutting my eyes.
FRANZ KAFKA

Eyes Mindset Myself Ourselves Photograph Story
I have the true feeling of myself only when I am unbearably unhappy.
FRANZ KAFKA

Feeling Happiness Myself True
Better to have, and not need, than to need, and not have.
FRANZ KAFKA

Deep Material Need Philosophy
Writing is utter solitude, the descent into the cold abyss of oneself.
FRANZ KAFKA

Cold Deep Oneself Philosophy Solitude Writing
So eager are our people to obliterate the present.
FRANZ KAFKA

Ourselves People Present
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
Nothing unites two people so completely, especially if, like you and me, all they have is words.
FRANZ KAFKA

People Unity Word
The limited circle is pure.
FRANZ KAFKA

Limitation Pure
Evil is whatever distracts.
FRANZ KAFKA

Evil One Liner
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.
FRANZ KAFKA

Dream Myself Night Remember Yourself
All I am is literature, and I am not able or willing to be anything else.
FRANZ KAFKA

Literature Myself Willing
Books are a narcotic.
FRANZ KAFKA

Book One Liner
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 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

What am I doing here in this endless winter?

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What am I doing here in this endless winter?

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