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The three of them knew it. She was Kafka’s mistress. Kafka had dreamt her. The three of them knew it. He was Kafka’s friend. Kafka had dreamt him. The...more

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So my life is a point-counterpoint, a kind of fugue, and a falling away–and everything winds up being lost to me, and everything falls into oblivion, ...more

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I have no way of knowing whether the events that I am about to narrate are effects or causes.

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And yet, and yet… Denying temporal succession, denying the self, denying the astronomical universe, are apparent desperations and secret consolations....more

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I suspected once that any human life, however intricate and full it might be, consisted in reality of one moment: the moment when a man knows for all ...more

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I'm alone and nobody is in the mirror

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The thought came over me that never would one full and absolute moment, containing all the others, justify my life, that all of my instants would be p...more

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I think—the hero observes that nothing is so frightening as a labyrinth with no center.

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Let not the rash marble riskgarrulous breaches of oblivion's omnipotence,in many words recallingname, renown, events, birthplace.All those glass jewel...more

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But let no one imagine that we were mere ascetics. There is no more complex pleasure than thought, and it was to thought that we delivered ourselves o...more

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One day or one night—between my days and nights, what difference can there be?—I dreamed that there was a grain of sand on the floor of my cell. Uncon...more

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The library will endure; it is the universe. As for us, everything has not been written; we are not turning into phantoms. We walk the corridors, sear...more