Monday, January 27, 2014

The castle

It was late evening when K. arrived.


Illusions are more common than changes in fortune

There's no quiet place here on earth for our love, not in the village and not anywhere else, so I picture a grave, deep and narrow, in which we embrace as if clamped together, I bury my face against you, you yours against me, and no one will ever see us.

all [the authorities] did was to guard the distant and invisible interests of distant and invisible masters

One must fight to get to the top, especially if one starts at the bottom.

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

The smell of the beer dazed him. ‘What have you done?’ he asked quietly. ‘We’re both lost.’ ‘No,’ said Frieda, ‘I’m the one who’s lost, but I’ve gained you.

K. was left standing in the snow, feeling disinclined to haul his foot 
out of it only to have it sink in again a little further on. The master 
tanner and his friend, happy to be rid of K. at last, made their way 
slowly back through the door of the house, which was only standing 
ajar, still keeping an eye on him. K. was left alone in the all-enveloping 
snow. ‘If I’d come here by chance and not on purpose,’ he thought, 
‘I might fall into despair at this point.’

Franz Kafka

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