Skallagrim
Member
- Apr 14, 2022
- 72
I noticed a lot of people here read Kafka, but a few people wonder what all the fuss is about. Let me tell you... or better yet, let Franz himself tell you....
From "Metamorphosis":
"I cannot make you understand. I cannot make anyone understand what is happening inside me. I cannot even explain it to myself."
From "The Penal Colony":
"You've seen yourself how difficult the writing is to decipher with your eyes, but our man deciphers it with his wounds."
From "The Burrow":
"And I leave my post of observation and find I have had enough of this outside life; I feel that there is nothing more that I can learn here, either now or at any time. And I long to say a last goodbye to everything up here, to go down into my burrow never to return again, let things take their course, and not try to retard them with my profitless vigils."
From "The Hunter Gracchus":
"My ship has no rudder, and it is driven by the wind that blows in the undermost regions of death."
From "Investigations of a Dog":
"With my questions I am only chasing myself, driving myself on with the silence that is the only answer I get from all around me."
From "A Report to an Academy":
"No, freedom was not what I wanted. Only a way out; right or left, or in any direction; I made no other demand; even should the way out prove to be an illusion; the demand was a small one, the disappointment could be no bigger. To get out somewhere, to get out! Only not to stay motionless with raised arms, crushed against a wooden wall."
From "The Hunger Artist":
"Then again, he shrank completely into himself once more, concerned with no one."
Dear Franz Kafka,
If only you could know: your words have become a lifeline for countless souls searching for meaning in a bewildering world. Your struggles, so intimately rendered, have helped us see ourselves - and each other - more clearly. You are not alone, and you never will be, because your voice echoes in the hearts and minds of all who read you.
From "Metamorphosis":
"I cannot make you understand. I cannot make anyone understand what is happening inside me. I cannot even explain it to myself."
From "The Penal Colony":
"You've seen yourself how difficult the writing is to decipher with your eyes, but our man deciphers it with his wounds."
From "The Burrow":
"And I leave my post of observation and find I have had enough of this outside life; I feel that there is nothing more that I can learn here, either now or at any time. And I long to say a last goodbye to everything up here, to go down into my burrow never to return again, let things take their course, and not try to retard them with my profitless vigils."
From "The Hunter Gracchus":
"My ship has no rudder, and it is driven by the wind that blows in the undermost regions of death."
From "Investigations of a Dog":
"With my questions I am only chasing myself, driving myself on with the silence that is the only answer I get from all around me."
From "A Report to an Academy":
"No, freedom was not what I wanted. Only a way out; right or left, or in any direction; I made no other demand; even should the way out prove to be an illusion; the demand was a small one, the disappointment could be no bigger. To get out somewhere, to get out! Only not to stay motionless with raised arms, crushed against a wooden wall."
From "The Hunger Artist":
"Then again, he shrank completely into himself once more, concerned with no one."
Dear Franz Kafka,
If only you could know: your words have become a lifeline for countless souls searching for meaning in a bewildering world. Your struggles, so intimately rendered, have helped us see ourselves - and each other - more clearly. You are not alone, and you never will be, because your voice echoes in the hearts and minds of all who read you.
