✞ Even if no
salvation should come, I want to be worthy of it every minute.
✞
Write to me
only once a week, so that your letter arrives on Sunday –
for I cannot endure your daily letters, I am incapable of
enduring them. For instance, I answer one of your letters, then
lie in bed in apparent calm, but my heart beats through my entire
body and is conscious only of you. I belong to you; there is
really no other way of expressing it, and that is not strong
enough. But for this very reason I don’t want to know what
you are wearing; it confuses me so much that I cannot deal with
life; and that’s why I don’t want to know that you
are fond of me. If I did, how could I, fool that I am, go on
sitting in my office, or here at home, instead of leaping onto a
train with my eyes shut and opening them only when I am with
you? —Franz Kafka
We are as forlorn as children lost in the woods. When you stand in front of me and look at me, what do you know of the griefs that are in me and what do I know of yours. And if I were to cast myself down before you and weep and tell you, what more would you know about me than you know about Hell when someone tells you it is hot and dreadful? For that reason alone we human beings ought to stand before one another as reverently, as reflectively, as lovingly, as we would before the entrance to Hell.
— Franz Kafka
