16530
|
Kafka himself espouses in diary entries and letters to Max Brod on the idea that the price for the passion of writing is equal to “service to the devil”. His belief was that there are two kinds of writers. One who writes in the daylight writes “sto
|
271441
|
And it struck me. You needed to be on the side of a milk carton. 2 percent of course.
|
100700
|
What do I understand?
What have I mastered or come to terms with?
|
98200
|
All I know about the futureis that every one alwaysgets to exactly where they are.
|
108500
|
said you loved me
told some jokes
aren’t you dying?
|
97210
|
Row,
Caps of white,
A salted escape
beneath reflected light.
Brother, remember those old lies?
I’m off to sea to make those things right,
now.
|
7400
|
“Sorry to disturb you Mr. Crass but it is I, Fredrick come from Sir Yainsnit. I have a letter here for you from his namesake he handed me not more than one hour ago...”
|
78100
|
My life isn't exactly what you'd call glamorous. Hell it's not even good. Not like that bathroom cabinet, getting cleaned every other day and handled like it's made of glass.No, my life is literally full of shit. They come, they sit, they shit. On the good days, I'm lucky…
|
58596
|
Through feeling her life story,
I understood mine, more,
|
555106
|
The trees would answer with a creak and a crackle.
Fall was near, a rotten apple.
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