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In man’s struggle against the world, bet on the world.

Franz Kafka

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

Misery People
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’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
Slept, awoke, slept, awoke, miserable life.
FRANZ KAFKA

Life Wake Up
Even the merest gesture is holy if it is filled with faith.
FRANZ KAFKA

Faith Simplicity
What am I doing here in this endless winter?
FRANZ KAFKA

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

Moments Myself Worth
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
I think we ought to read only the kind of books that wound and stab us.
FRANZ KAFKA

Book Kind Myself Thinking Wound
It certainly was not my intention to make you suffer, yet I have done so; obviously it never will be my intention to make you suffer, yet I shall always do so.
FRANZ KAFKA

Myself Suffering Yourself
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
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
It’s only because of their stupidity that they’re able to be so sure of themselves.
FRANZ KAFKA

Philosophy Stupidity
I usually solve problems by letting them devour me.
FRANZ KAFKA

Let Go Myself Problem
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

In man’s struggle against the world, bet on the world.

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In man’s struggle against the world, bet on the world.

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