(Source: lesbohemiens, via half-ashamed)

fuckyeahhistorycrushes:

Franz Kafka, born in Prague in 1883, known for his literary work, specifically “Metamorphosis,” The Trial, and others.

If there was one person that I could go back in time and hug, it’d be this sweet, sweet man who had more intimacy issues than he knew what to do with.

I’m desperately in love with him.

"Well, do you think I believe in ghosts? But how can my not believing help me?"

"March 19. Hysteria making me surpringsingly and unaccountably unhappy."

"He who seeks does not find, but he who does not seek will be found."

"Why so? Scratch your skin in between your toes, and you won’t find the reason. Press yourself backwards against the bars until they nearly cut you in two, and you won’t find the reason."

"I do not read advertisements. I would spend all of my time wanting things."

crashinglybeautiful:

Franz Kafka’s signature in a letter to Milena Jesenská.  It reads:

Franz wrong, F wrong, Yours wrong/ nothing more calm, deep forest. 

Prague, July 29, 1920.

Letters to Milena. Franz Kafka, trans. Philip Boehm. New York: Schocken Books, 1990.

Kafka and Jesenská met twice: once in Vienna for four days, and in Gmünd for one. Kafka gave her his diaries at the end of his life.

Thank you, bellswithin.

(via half-ashamed)

"People are sewn into their skins for life and cannot alter any of the seams, at least not with their own hands."

5 January. 

exit-weeping:

“For two days I have noticed, whenever I choose to, an inner coolness and indifference. Yesterday evening, during my walk, every little street sound, every eye turned towards me, ever picture in a showcase, was more important to me than myself.”

(from the diaries of Franz Kafka.)