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#kafka diaries
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Franz Kafka writing a letter to his dad
~ 1919, colorized
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frenchnewwaves · 1 year
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“I am constantly trying to communicate something incommunicable, to explain something inexplicable, to tell about something I only feel in my bones and which can only be experienced in those bones.”
-Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena
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maihonhassan · 2 months
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“She is suffering and is at the same time calm.”
- Franz Kafka, Diaries
Dard itna hai ke har rag mein hai mahshar barpa
Aur sakun aisa ki mar jaane ko ji chahta hai
- Faiz Ahmad Faiz
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jayvespertine · 2 years
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“What thing worthy of love can be found in me?”
– Franz Kafka, from Letters To Milena
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rosestothedead · 1 year
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I don't feel particularly proud of myself. But when I walk alone in the woods or lie in the meadows, all is well.
— Franz Kafka, Letters to Friends, Family, and Editors
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tcmreads · 1 year
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kafka’s doodles
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lettersinarchive · 2 months
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“and as October slips into nothingness, I think a little more of you. The feelings are getting intense. I’m camouflaging into you and you are sheltering into me.”
— lettersinarchive. [diary entry, 31st oct 2023]
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happysadaf · 4 months
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Sometiems I just stand in front of Ammi-Abbu's (Mom-Dad's) bedroom door when it is closed or when the curtains are drawn. And I just stand there trying to make out what they're talking about. Most of the times I cannot. But I just stand there. Listening to their mumblings and silent giggles. I stand there for some time and then I walk away.
When I think of this, I think of home.
I'm not away from home. Then you must be wondering why am I talking of home so nostalgically. I may not be away from home, but I do think of home very often. That's because I often think of the future when I'll not be home, and I think about what I'll be thinking of then.
This is what I'll be thinking of.
— 14 December, 2022. 5:13 PM. (An excerpt from my diary)
Sadaf Fatima (ig: @ sadafffatimaa)
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Franz Kafka smiling gives my stupid little brain the happy chemical
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pcybervenus · 6 months
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You can achieve nothing if you forsake yourself.
- Franz Kafka
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beljar · 2 years
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This tremendous world I have inside of me. How to free myself, and this world, without tearing myself to pieces. And rather tear myself to a thousand pieces than be buried with this world within me.
Franz Kafka, Diaries, 1910-1923
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frenchnewwaves · 1 year
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"I never wish to be easily defined. I'd rather float over other people's minds as something strictly fluid and non-perceivable; more like a transparent, paradoxically iridescent creature rather than an actual person."
-Franz Kafka (diary of March 24th 1914)
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maihonhassan · 1 month
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In English we say;
“The only way to save another person is by being there and nothing else.” - Franz Kafka
But in Urdu we say;
“Har chaaragar ko chaaragari se gurez tha, warna hamein jo dukh thay bohat la-dawa na thay.” - Faiz Ahmad Faiz
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themachomoron · 1 year
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At 40, Franz Kafka (1883-1924), Who never married and had no children, walked through the park in Berlin when he met a girl who was crying because she had lost her favourite doll. She and Kafka searched for the doll unsuccessfully. Kafka told her to meet him there the next day and they would come back to look for her. The next day, when they had not yet found the doll, Kafka gave the girl a letter "written" by the doll saying "please don't cry. I took a trip to see the world. I will write to you about my adventures." Thus began a story which continued until the end of Kafka's life. During their meetings, Kafka read the letters of the doll carefully written with adventures and conversations that the girl found adorable. Finally, Kafka brought back the doll (he bought one) that had returned to Berlin. "It doesn't look like my doll at all," said the girl. Kafka handed her another letter in which the doll wrote: "my travels have changed me." the little girl hugged the new doll and brought her happy home.
A year later Kafka died.
Many years later, the now-adult girl found a letter inside the doll. In the tiny letter signed by Kafka it was written:
"Everything you love will probably be lost, but in the end, love will return in another way."
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maggiecheungs · 2 months
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Unnoticeable life. Noticeable failure.
Franz Kafka, diary entry for 20th February 1922
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