You're not cross with me, though?" he said. She pulled her hand away and answered, "No, no, I'm never cross with anyone.
Franz KafkaPeople 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.
Franz KafkaThe ulterior motives with which you absorb and assimilate Evil are not your own but those of Evil.
Franz Kafka