Faith, like a guillotine. As heavy, as light.

Beyond a certain point there is no return. This point has to be reached.

Anything that has real and lasting value is always a gift from within.

The worries that are the burden of which the privileged person makes an excuse in dealing with the oppressed person are in fact the worries about preserving his privileged condition.

It would have been so pointless to kill himself that, even if he had wanted to, the pointlessness would have made him unable.

Someone must have slandered Josef K., for one morning, without having done anything truly wrong, he was arrested.

Our art is a way of being dazzled by truth: the light on the grotesquely grimacing retreating face is true, and nothing else.