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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

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
First impressions are always unreliable.
FRANZ KAFKA

Appearance One Liner
Writing is utter solitude, the descent into the cold abyss of oneself.
FRANZ KAFKA

Cold Deep Oneself Philosophy Solitude Writing
A First Sign of the Beginning of Understanding is the Wish to Die.
FRANZ KAFKA

Beginning Death Understand
All language is but a poor translation.
FRANZ KAFKA

Language One Liner Poor
Forget everything. Open the windows. Clear the room. The wind blows through it. You see only its emptiness, you search in every corner and don’t find yourself.
FRANZ KAFKA

Empty Forget Philosophy Search Yourself
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
What am I doing here in this endless winter?
FRANZ KAFKA

End Myself Winter
They say ignorance is bliss, they’re wrong
FRANZ KAFKA

Ignorance Wrong
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
So eager are our people to obliterate the present.
FRANZ KAFKA

Ourselves People Present
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
Logic may indeed be unshakeable, but it cannot withstand a man who is determined to live.
FRANZ KAFKA

Determination Live Logic Man
What if I slept a little more and forgot about all this nonsense.
FRANZ KAFKA

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

Light Myself Yourself
I miss you deeply, unfathomably, senselessly, terribly.
FRANZ KAFKA

Deep I Miss You Myself

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.

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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.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

More Franz Kafka Quotes