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Writing is utter solitude, the descent into the cold abyss of oneself.

Franz Kafka

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

Philosophy Stupidity
He was a tool of the boss, without brains or backbone.
FRANZ KAFKA

Himself Slave
From a certain point onward there is no longer any turning back. That is the point that must be reached.
FRANZ KAFKA

Inspirational Philosophy
Love is, that you are the knife which I plunge into myself.
FRANZ KAFKA

Deep Love Myself
Please — consider me a dream.
FRANZ KAFKA

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

Explanation Myself Understand
Evil is whatever distracts.
FRANZ KAFKA

Evil One Liner
Written kisses don’t reach their destination, rather they are drunk on the way by the ghosts.
FRANZ KAFKA

Destination Kiss Writing
Kill me, or you are a murderer.
FRANZ KAFKA

Deep Kill Myself One Liner
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
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
What if I slept a little more and forgot about all this nonsense.
FRANZ KAFKA

Escape Forget Myself
Writing is utter solitude, the descent into the cold abyss of oneself.
FRANZ KAFKA

Cold Deep Oneself Philosophy Solitude Writing
Sleep is the most innocent creature there is and a sleepless man the most guilty.
FRANZ KAFKA

Guilty Man Wake Up
The meaning of life is that it stops.
FRANZ KAFKA

Death Life One Liner Philosophy

Writing is utter solitude, the descent into the cold abyss of oneself.

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Writing is utter solitude, the descent into the cold abyss of oneself.

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