I dream of a grave, deep and narrow, where we could clasp each other in our arms as with clamps, and I would hide my face in you and you would hide your face in me, and nobody would ever see us any more

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

I wanted to escape the unrest, to shut out the voices around me and within me, so I write.

The state we find ourselves in is sinful quite independent of guilt.

The old incapacity. Interrupted my writing for barely ten days and already cast out. Once again prodigious efforts stand before me. You have to dive down, as it were, and sink more rapidly than that which sinks in advance of you.

One morning, as Gregor Samsa was waking up from anxious dreams, he discovered that in his bed he had been changed into a monstrous bug.

Follow your most intense obsessions mercilessly.