and in that recurring dream, I found myself trapped in some sort of gigantic game of which I was unfamiliar with the rules; lost in a labyrinthine town of dark and damp, criss-crossing streets, ambiguous characters of uncertain authority having no idea of why I was there nor what I had to do, and where the first sign of the beginning of understanding was the wish to die.

As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic insect.

Dread of night. Dread of not-night.

He was a tool of the boss, without brains or backbone.

A belief is like a guillotine, just as heavy, just as light.

No matter how much you keep encouraging someone who is blindfolded to stare through the cloth, he still won’t see a thing.".

The whole visible world is perhaps nothing more than the rationalization of a man who wants to find peace for a moment.