Just think how many thoughts a blanket smothers while one lies alone in bed, and how many unhappy dreams it keeps warm.

There sat I, a faded being, under faded leaves.

From a certain point onward there is no longer any turning back. That is the point that must be reached.

In a way, you are poetry material; You are full of cloudy subtleties I am willing to spend a lifetime figuring out. Words burst in your essence and you carry their dust in the pores of your ethereal individuality.

When one has once accepted and absorbed Evil, it no longer demands to be believed.

No," said the priest, "you don't need to accept everything as true, you only have to accept it as necessary." "Depressing view," said K. "The lie made into the rule of the world.

I usually solve problems by letting them devour me.