May I kiss you then? On this miserable paper? I might as well open the window and kiss the night air.
Franz Kafka
Even if no salvation should come, I want to be worthy of it at every moment.
But I’m not guilty,” said K. “there’s been a mistake. How is it even possible for someone to be guilty? We’re all human beings here, one like the other.” “That is true” said the priest “but that is how the guilty speak
You are the knife I turn inside myself; that is love. That, my dear, is love.
You are at once both the quiet and the confusion of my heart; imagine my heartbeat when you are in this state.
Every thing you love is very likely to be lost, but in the end, love will return in a different way.
But what if all the tranquility, all the comfort, all the contentment were now to come to a horrifying end?
I am too tired, I must try to rest and sleep, otherwise I am lost in every respect. What an effort to keep alive! Erecting a monument does not require an expenditure of so much strength.
One of the first signs of the beginnings of understanding is the wish to die. This life appears unbearable, another unattainable. One is no longer ashamed of wanting to die; one asks to be moved from the old cell, which one hates, to a new one, which one will only in time come to hate.