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You are the knife I turn inside myself; that is love. That, my dear, is love.

Franz Kafka

I am always trying to convey something that can’t be conveyed, to explain something which is inexplicable, to tell about something I have in my bones, something which can be expressed only in the bones.
FRANZ KAFKA

Explanation Expression Myself Try
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
First impressions are always unreliable.
FRANZ KAFKA

Appearance One Liner
Better to have, and not need, than to need, and not have.
FRANZ KAFKA

Deep Material Need Philosophy
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
Now I can look at you in peace; I don’t eat you any more.
FRANZ KAFKA

Eat Myself Peace Yourself
I have spent all my life resisting the desire to end it.
FRANZ KAFKA

Death Desire End Life Myself Resistance
The person I am in the company of my sisters has been entirely different from the person I am in the company of other people. Fearless, powerful, surprising, moved as I otherwise am only when I write.
FRANZ KAFKA

Company Different Fear Myself People Person Powerful Writing
I can love only what I can place so high above me that I cannot reach it.
FRANZ KAFKA

Love Myself Place
I dream of a grave, deep and narrow, where we could clasp each other in our arms as with clamps, and I would hide my face in you and you would hide your face in me, and nobody would ever see us any more
FRANZ KAFKA

Dream Each Other Hide Myself See
You are at once both the quiet and the confusion of my heart; imagine my heartbeat when you are in this state.
FRANZ KAFKA

Heart Imagination Quiet Yourself
He is terribly afraid of dying because he hasn’t yet lived.
FRANZ KAFKA

Afraid Death Deep Himself Live
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
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
There is an infinite amount of hope in the universe, but not for us.
FRANZ KAFKA

Break Up Hope Sadness World
A non-writing writer is a monster courting insanity.
FRANZ KAFKA

Sanity Writing

You are the knife I turn inside myself; that is love. That, my dear, is love.

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You are the knife I turn inside myself; that is love. That, my dear, is love.

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