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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
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Franz Kafka
Age: 41 †
Born: 1883
Born: July 3
Died: 1924
Died: July 3
Aphorist
Claims Adjuster
Diarist
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Lawyer
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Poet Lawyer
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Screenwriter
Short Story Writer
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Writer
Praha
FrantiĊĦek Kafka
Kafka
Another
Kept
Remember
Finally
Caught
Merging
Fire
Detail
Happened
Dreamed
Lasts
Hardly
Last
Details
Night
Somehow
More quotes by Franz Kafka
In the fight between you and the world, back the world.
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People who walk across dark bridges, past saints, with dim, small lights. Clouds which move across gray skies past churches with towers darkened in the dusk. One who leans against granite railing gazing into the evening waters, His hands resting on old stones.
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Writer speaks a stench.
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So eager are our people to obliterate the present.
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Suffering is the positive element in this world, indeed it is the only link between this world and the positive.
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I think we ought to read only the kind of books that wound and stab us.
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Slept, awoke, slept, awoke, miserable life.
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Atlas was permitted the opinion that he was at liberty, if he wished, to drop the Earth and creep away but this opinion was all that he was permitted.
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He who seeks does not find, but he who does not seek will be found.
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Man cannot live without a permanent trust in something indestructible in himself, though both the indestructible element and the trust may remain permanently hidden from him. One of the ways in which this hiddenness can express itself is through faith in a personal god.
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I never wish to be easily defined.
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If the book we are reading does not wake us, as with a fist hammering on our skull, why then do we read it?
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Youth is happy because it has the capacity to see beauty.
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All I am is literature, and I am not able or willing to be anything else.
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I want in fact more of you. In my mind I am dressing you with light I am wrapping you up in blankets of complete acceptance and then I give myself to you. I long for you I who usually long without longing, as though I am unconscious and absorbed in neutrality and apathy, really, utterly long for every bit of you.
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A man of action forced into a state of thought is unhappy until he can get out of it.
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Self-control means wanting to be effective at some random point in the infinite radiations of my spiritual existence.
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It's sometimes quite astonishing that a single, average life is enough to encompass so much that it's at all possible ever to have any success in one's work here.
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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.
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Sometimes I think I can expiate all my past and future sins through the aching of my bones.
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