Letters to Milena
Franz KafkaLetters to Milena Sözleri ve Alıntıları
Letters to Milena sözleri ve alıntılarını, Letters to Milena kitap alıntılarını, Letters to Milena en etkileyici cümleleri ve paragragları 1000Kitap'ta bulabilirsiniz.Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena
"You are the knife I turn inside myself; that is love. That, my dear, is love."
F.Kafka
You are the knife I turn inside myself; that is love. That, my dear, is love.
"I want in fact more of you.
In my mind I am dressing you with light;
I am wrapping you up in blankets of complete acceptance and then I give myself to you.
I long for you; I who usually long without longing, as though I am unconscious and absorbed in neutrality and apathy, really, utterly long for every bit of you"
You were walking next to me; just think, you were walking next to me . . . it's impossible to understand how you can be far away.
In the meantime I was able to observe you some, though it didn't matter to me in the least what you looked like—your words were all I cared about.
Seni ellerimde yeterince tutamıyorum.
I'm thinking only of my illness and my health, though both, the first as well as the second, are you.
German is my mother tongue and as such more natural to me, but I consider Czech much more affectionate, which is why your letter removes several uncertainties; I see you more clearly, the movements of your body, your hands, so quick, so resolute, it’s almost like a meeting.
I have spent all my life resisting the desire to end it.
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. Basically it is nothing other than this fear we have so often talked about, but fear spread to everything, fear of the greatest as of the smallest, fear, paralyzing fear of pronouncing a word, although this fear may not only be fear but also a longing for something greater than all that is fearful.
If a million loved you, I am one of them and if one loved you, it was me. If no one loved you, then know that I am dead.
sleep is the most innocent creature there is and a sleepless man
the most guilty.
You are the knife I turn inside myself; that is love. That, my dear, is love.
And don't demand any sincerity from me, Milena. No one can demand it from me more than I myself and yet many things elude me, I'm sure, perhaps everything eludes me.
It seems to be a fact that man, tortured by his demons, avenges himself blindly on his fellow-man.