Yet for Karl there was one great attraction in the placard. ‘Everyone is welcome,’ it said. Everyone, that meant Karl too. All that he had done till now was ignored; it was not going to be made a reproach to him. He was entitled to apply for a job of which he need not be ashamed, which, on the contrary, was a matter of public advertisement. And just as public was the promise that he too would find acceptance. He asked for nothing better; he wanted to find some way of at least beginning a decent life, and perhaps this was his chance.
~ America, Franz Kafka
“Because I must fast, I cannot do otherwise,” answered the hunger artist. “What a character you are,” said the overseer, “and why can’t you do otherwise?” “Because,” said the hunger artist, lifting his head a little and puckering his lips as if for a kiss, and he spoke directly into the overseer’s ear so that nothing would be missed, “because I could never find food I liked. Had I found it, believe me, I would never have created such a ruckus and would have stuffed myself like you and everyone else.” These were his last words, but in his glazing eyes there remained the firm if no longer proud conviction that he was still fasting.
~ A Hunger Artist, Franz Kafka
The sister played so beautifully. Her face was tilted to one side and she followed the notes with soulful and probing eyes. Gregor advanced a little, keeping his eyes low so that they might possibly meet hers. Was he a beast if music could move him so?
~ The Metamorphosis, Franz Kafka