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I wanted to escape the unrest, to shut out the voices around me and within me, so I write.

Franz Kafka

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Franz Kafka
Age: 41 †
Born: 1883
Born: July 3
Died: 1924
Died: July 3
Aphorist
Claims Adjuster
Diarist
Fabulist
Lawyer
Novelist
Poet Lawyer
Prosaist
Screenwriter
Short Story Writer
Translator
Writer
Praha
František Kafka
Kafka
Shut
Escape
Within
Voice
Write
Around
Wanted
Unrest
Writing
Voices

More quotes by Franz Kafka

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Writing [is] a form of prayer.
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So eager are our people to obliterate the present.
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A first sign of the beginning of understanding is the wish to die.
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The true way goes over a rope which is not stretched at any great height but just above the ground. It seems more designed to make people stumble than to be walked upon.
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If they were shocked, then Gregor had no further responsibility and could be calm. But if they took everything calmly, he he, too, had no reason to get excited and could, if he hurried, actually be at the station by eight o'clock.
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Follow your most intense obsessions mercilessly.
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The old incapacity. Interrupted my writing for barely ten days and already cast out. Once again prodigious efforts stand before me. You have to dive down, as it were, and sink more rapidly than that which sinks in advance of you.
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I do not speak as I think, I do not think as I should, and so it all goes on in helpless darkness.
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Man cannot live without a continuous confidence in something indestructible within himself.
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Many a book is like a key to unknown chambers within the castle of one’s own self.
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The man in ecstasy and the man drowning: both raise their arms.
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They say ignorance is bliss.... they're wrong
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He is a free and secure citizen of the world because he is on a chain that is long enough to allow him access to all parts of the earth, and yet not so long that he could be swept over the edge of it.
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Books are a narcotic.
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I am a retiring, silent, unsociable, and discontent person.
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For words are magical formulae. They leave finger marks be hind on the brain, which in the twinkling of an eye become the footprints of history. One ought to watch one' s every word.
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The observer of the soul cannot penetrate into the soul, but there doubtless is a margin where he comes into contact with it. Recognition of this contact is the fact that even the soul does not know of itself. Hence it must remain unknown. That would be sad only if there were anything apart from the soul, but there is nothing else.
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What's happened to me,' he thought. It was no dream.
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As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic insect.
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Believing means liberating the indestructible element in oneself, or, more accurately, liberating oneself, or, more accurately, being indestructible, or, more accurately, being.
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