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It would have been so pointless to kill himself that, even if he had wanted to, the pointlessness would have made him unable.

Franz Kafka

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

Light Myself Yourself
You are at once both the quiet and the confusion of my heart.
FRANZ KAFKA

Heart Myself Quiet Yourself
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
Kill me, or you are a murderer.
FRANZ KAFKA

Deep Kill Myself One Liner
I am free and that is why I am lost.
FRANZ KAFKA

Freedom Lost Myself One Liner Philosophy
You can hold yourself back from the sufferings of the world, that is something you are free to do and it accords with your nature, but perhaps this very holding back is the one suffering you could avoid.
FRANZ KAFKA

Avoid Freedom Hold Nature Suffering World Yourself
No, said the priest, you don’t need to accept everything as true, you only have to accept it as necessary. Depressing view, said K. The lie made into the rule of the world.
FRANZ KAFKA

Acceptance Lie Necessary Need Rule World Yourself
A non-writing writer is a monster courting insanity.
FRANZ KAFKA

Sanity Writing
A book must be the axe for the frozen sea within us.
FRANZ KAFKA

Book One Liner Sea
I am dirty, Milena, endlessly dirty, that is why I make such a fuss about cleanliness. None sing as purely as those in deepest hell; it is their singing we take for the singing of angels.
FRANZ KAFKA

Angel Hell Myself Sing
The limited circle is pure.
FRANZ KAFKA

Limitation Pure
I never wish to be easily defined. I’d rather float over other people’s minds as something strictly fluid and non-perceivable; more like a transparent, paradoxically iridescent creature rather than an actual person.
FRANZ KAFKA

Easy Mindset Myself People Person
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
Many a book is like a key to unknown chambers within the castle of one’s own self.
FRANZ KAFKA

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

Destination Kiss Writing

It would have been so pointless to kill himself that, even if he had wanted to, the pointlessness would have made him unable.

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It would have been so pointless to kill himself that, even if he had wanted to, the pointlessness would have made him unable.

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