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A picture of my existence... would show a useless wooden stake covered in snow... stuck loosely at a slant in the ground in a ploughed field on the edge of a vast open plain on a dark winter night.
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
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Writer
Praha
František Kafka
Kafka
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More quotes by Franz Kafka
There can be knowledge of the diabolical, but no belief in it, for more of the diabolical than there is does not exist.
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It is often safer to be in chains than to be free.
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In a certain sense you deny the existence of this world. You explain life as a state of rest, a state of rest in motion.
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I, however, cannot force myself to use meat drugs to cheat on my loneliness.
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Don't bend don't water it down don't try to make it logical don't edit your own soul according to the fashion. Rather, follow your most intense obsessions mercilessly.
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Anyone who loves his neighbor within the limits of the world is doing no more and no less injustice than someone who loves himself within the limits of the world.
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Every revolution evaporates and leaves behind only the slime of a new bureaucracy.
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So then you’re free?’ ‘Yes, I’m free,’ said Karl, and nothing seemed more worthless than his freedom.
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Productivity is being able to do things that you were never able to do before.
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He was a tool of the boss, without brains or backbone.
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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 passed by the brothel as though past the house of a beloved.
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How can one take delight in the world unless one flees to it for refuge?
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The purpose of a story is to be an axe that breaks up the ice within us.
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I’m tired, can’t think of anything and want only to lay my face in your lap, feel your hand on my head and remain like that through all eternity.
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The right understanding of any matter and a misunderstanding of the same matter do not wholly exclude each other.
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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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Every thing that you love, you will eventually lose, but in the end, love will return in a different form.
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The delights of this life are not its own, but our fear of the ascent into a higher life the torments of this life are not its own, but our self-torment because of that fear.
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The more horses you yoke the quicker everything will go - not the rending of the block from its foundation, which is impossible, but the snapping of the traces and with that the gay and empty journey.
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