Could he be an animal if music moved him so deeply? He felt as though a path were opening toward the unknown nourishment he had longed for.
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FRANZ KAFKA · 1883–1924
Explore Franz Kafka on solitude, belonging, change and the strange edges of everyday life.
Could he be an animal if music moved him so deeply? He felt as though a path were opening toward the unknown nourishment he had longed for.
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For we are like tree trunks in the snow. They seem to rest lightly on its surface, as though a small push could move them aside. No, that cannot be done, because they are firmly joined to the ground. But look, even that is only an appearance.
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I stand on the platform of the electric tram, entirely uncertain of my place in this world, in this city, in my family.
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One morning, waking from troubled dreams, Gregor Samsa found that he had changed in his bed into an enormous verminous creature.
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What if I went on sleeping a little longer and forgot all this madness?
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If only Gregor could have spoken with his sister and thanked her for everything she had to do for him, he would have found her care easier to bear; as things were, it caused him pain.
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None of Gregor’s pleading helped, and none of it was understood; however humbly he turned his head, his father only stamped his feet more fiercely.
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He scarcely wondered at how little consideration he had shown the others lately; once, that consideration had been his pride.
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Some people may feel sorry for me, but I feel nothing of their sympathy.
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I weigh my past against my future and find both excellent. I cannot prefer either one; I can only reproach the unfairness of providence for favouring me so much.
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Consider the persuasive power of the air after a thunderstorm! My own merits appear before me and overwhelm me, though I offer no resistance.
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Rising out of misery ought to be easy, even with energy summoned by an act of will.
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But even if it works, every inevitable mistake will bring the whole thing to a halt, the easy and the difficult alike, and I will have to turn back in a circle.
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When you mingle your voice with other voices, you are caught as if on a fishing hook.
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On reflection, nothing can make it tempting to want to finish first in a race.
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Yes, we are both right, and so that we do not become irrefutably aware of it, we would rather each go home alone, would we not?
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Nothing could have stopped us; we were running with such momentum that even while overtaking one another we could fold our arms and look calmly around.
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