Franz Kafka: Frases en inglés (página 8)

“He was a tool of the boss, without brains or backbone.”

“Writing is a deeper sleep than death.
Just as one wouldn't pull a corpse from its grave,
I can't be dragged from my desk at night.”

“Should I be grateful or should I curse the fact that despite all misfortune I can still feel love, an unearthly love but still for earthly objects.”

“The right understanding of any matter and a misunderstanding of the same matter do not wholly exclude each other.”

“Nothing unites two people so completely, especially if, like you and me, all they have is words.”

“Even if no salvation should come, I want to be worthy of it at every moment.”

“If the book we are reading does not wake us, as with a fist hammering on our skull, why then do we read it?”

“What's happened to me,' he thought. It was no dream.”

“Writing is prayer.”

“Forget everything. Open the windows. Clear the room. The wind blows through it. You see only its emptiness, you search in every corner and don’t find yourself.”

“I like to make use of what I know”

“All knowledge, the totality of all questions and all answers, is contained in the dog. If one could but realize this knowledge, if one could but bring it into the light of day, if we dogs would but own that we know infinitely more than we admit to ourselves!”

“2 November. This morning, for the first time in a long time, the joy again of imagining a knife twisted in my heart.”

“It would be very unjust to say that you deserted me, but that I was deserted, and sometimes terribly so, is true.”

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

“Every word first looks around in every direction before letting itself be written down by me.”

“My condition is not unhappiness, but it is also not happiness, not indifference, not weakness, not fatigue, not another interest – so what is it then?”

“If you become involved with me, you will be throwing yourself into the abyss.”

“Now the Sirens have a still more fatal weapon than their song, namely their silence… Someone might possibly have escaped from their singing; but from their silence, certainly never.”