The first step in liquidating a people is to erase its memory. Destroy its books, its culture, its history.

Humanity's true moral test, its fundamental test…consists of its attitude towards those who are at its mercy: animals.

Speed is the form of ecstasy the technical revolution has bestowed on man. As opposed to a motorcyclist, the runner is always present in his body, forever required to think about his blisters, his exhaustion; when he runs he feels his weight, his age, more conscious than ever of himself and of his time of life. This all changes when man delegates the faculty of speed to a machine: from then on, his own body is outside the process, and he gives over to a speed that is noncorporeal, nonmaterial, pure speed, speed itself, ecstasy speed.

I think I am a much better actor than I have allowed myself to be.

The moment Kafka attracts more attenetion than Joseph K., Kafka's posthumous death begins.

He Kept recalling her lying on his bed; she reminded him of no one in his former life.

Sleep in my arms. Like a baby bird. Like a broom among brooms... in a broom closet. Like a tiny parrot. Like a whistle. Like a little song. A song sung by a forest... within a forest... a thousand years ago.