“I dream of a grave, deep and narrow, where we could clasp each other in our arms as with clamps, and I would hide my face in you and you would hide your face in me, and nobody would ever see us any more”
“There's no quiet place here on earth for our love, not in the village and not anywhere else, so I picture a grave, deep and narrow, in which we embrace as if clamped together, I bury my face against you, you yours against me, and no one will ever see us.”
“One must fight to get to the top, especially if one starts at the bottom.”
“If a man has his eyes bound, you can encourage him as much as you like to stare through the bandage, but he'll never see anything.”
“Since I met you, I've felt abandoned without your nearness; your nearness is all I ever dream of, the only thing.”
“Illusions are more common than changes in fortune”
“You misinterpret everything, even the silence.”
“It isn’t easy to understand exactly what she is saying, for one doesn’t know whether she is speaking ironically or seriously, it’s mostly serious, but sounds ironic. - “Stop interpreting everything!” said K.”
“Our winters are very long here, very long and very monotonous. But we don't complain about it downstairs, we're shielded against the winter. Oh, spring does come eventually, and summer, and they last for a while, but now, looking back, spring and summer seem too short, as if they were not much more than a couple of days, and even on those days, no matter how lovely the day, it still snows occasionally.”
“Deceptions are more frequent than changes”
“and i would hide my face in you and you would hide your face in me, and nobody would ever see us any more”
“all [the authorities] did was to guard the distant and invisible interests of distant and invisible masters”
“Surveyor, in your thoughts you may be reproaching Sordini for not having been prompted by my claim to make inquiries about the matter in other departments. But that would have been wrong, and I want this man cleared of all blame in your thoughts. One of the operating principles of authorities is that the possibility of error is simply not taken into account. This principle is justified by the excellence of the entire organization and is also necessary if matters are to be discharged with the utmost rapidity. So Sordini couldn’t inquire in other departments, besides those departments wouldn’t have answered, since they would have noticed right away that he was investigating the possibility of an error.”
“Chairman, allow me to interrupt you with a question,” said K., “didn’t you mention a control agency? As you describe it, the organization is such that the very thought that the control agency might fail to materialize is enough to make one ill.”
“You’re very severe,” said the chairman, “but multiply your severity by a thousand and it will still be as nothing compared with the severity that the authorities show toward themselves. Only a total stranger could ask such a question. Are there control agencies? There are only control agencies. Of course they aren’t meant to find errors, in the vulgar sense of that term, since no errors occur, and even if an error does occur, as in your case, who can finally say that it is an error.”
“It seemed to K. as if at last those people had broken off all relations with him, and as if now in reality he were freer than he had ever been, and at liberty to wait here in this place usually forbidden to him as long as he desired, and had won a freedom such as hardly anybody else had ever succeeded in winning, and as if nobody could dare touch him or drive him away, or even speak to him, but — this conviction was at least equally as strong — as if at the same time there was nothing more senseless, more hopeless, than this freedom, this waiting, this inviolability.”
“Of course I'm ignorant, that remains true at all events and is extremely distressing for me, but it does have the advantage that the ignorant man dares more, so I shall gladly put up with ignorance and its undoubtedly dire consequences for a while, as long as my strength lasts.”
“Other opportunities arise from time to time that almost don't accord with the overall situation, opportunities whereby a word, a glance, a sigh of trust may achieve more than a lifetime of exhausting endeavour.”
“He speaks to Klamm, but is it Klamm? Isn’t it rather someone who merely resembles Klamm? Perhaps at the very most a secretary who is a little like Klamm and goes to great lengths to be even more like him and tries to seem important by affecting Klamm’s drowsy, dreamlike manner. That part of his being is easiest to imitate, many try to do so; as for the rest of his being, though, they wisely steer clear of it. And a man such as Klamm, who is so often the object of yearning and yet so rarely attained, easily takes on a variety of shapes in the imagination of people. For instance, Klamm has a village secretary here called Momus. Really? You know him? He too keeps to himself but I have seen him a couple of times. A powerful young gentleman, isn’t he? And so he probably doesn’t look at all like Klamm? And yet you can find people in the village who would swear that Momus is Klamm and none other than he. That’s how people create confusion for themselves. And why should it be any different at the Castle?”
“It seemed to k. as if all contact with him had been cut and he was more of a free agent than ever. He could wait here, in a place usually forbidden to him, as long as he liked, and he also felt as if he gad won that freedom with more effort than most people could manage to make, and no one could touch him or drive him away, why, they hardly had a right even to adress him. But at the same time - and this feeling was at least as strong - he felt as if there were nothing more meaningless and more desperate than this freedom, this waiting, this invulnerability.”
“Faptele dumneavoastra vor lasa poate urme adînci de pasi în zapada, dar atît.”
“answer. How else is he going to understand what is obvious to us, that Herr Klamm never will speak to him – what am I saying, never”
“I’ve never seen Klamm, Frieda doesn’t like me very much, as you know, and she would never have let me have a look at him; but of course they know very well what he looks like in the village, some people have seen him, they’ve all heard of him, and from these glimpses and rumours, as well as some deliberately misleading reports, a picture of Klamm has emerged that is probably generally accurate. But only generally; otherwise it varies, and perhaps it doesn’t even vary as much as Klamm’s actual appearance. He is supposed to look quite different when he arrives in the village and when he leaves, different before and after he’s been drinking beer, different when he’s awake and when he’s asleep, different when he’s alone and when he’s talking to someone – and then, as you can imagine, almost completely different up at the Castle. And even when he’s in the village there are reports of quite substantial differences, differences in his height, his shape, his weight, his beard. Fortunately, there’s one thing the descriptions agree about, his clothes – he’s always dressed the same: in a black frock coat with long tails. Of course, all these differences are due to magic, they are quite understandable because they depend on the present mood, the level of excitement, the countless degrees of hope or despair on the part of the observer, who is in any case only able to catch a momentary glimpse of Klamm. I’m telling you all this just as Barnabas has often explained it to me, and on the whole it’s reassuring as long as one’s not directly or personally involved. It doesn’t affect me, but for Barnabas it’s a matter of vital importance whether it’s really Klamm he is talking to or not.’ ‘It’s”
“The conclusion to be drawn from this was that this was in its way a quite different sort of fatigue from K.'s. Here it was doubtless fatigue amid happy work, something that outwardly looked like fatigue and was actually indestructible repose, indestructible peace. If one is a little tired at noon, that is part of the happy natural course of the day. 'For the gentlemen here it is always noon,' K. said to himself.”
“Stătea întinsă pe spate cu braţele desfăcute, ca într-o sfârşeală din dragoste ; de atâta voluptate timpul i se părea de bună seamă fără sfârşit şi cânta, mai mult în suspine, un cântecel oarecare.
Văzând că el rămâne tăcut, dus pe gânduri, tresări speriată şi începu să-l smucească apoi ca un copil, spunându-i :
- Hai, vino, aici ne sufocăm.
Se îmbrăţişară, trupul ei puţintel ardea sub mâinile lui K., se rostogoliră cu câţiva metri mai încolo într-o inconştienţă din care K. încerca mereu să se smulgă făcând eforturi zadarnice, se loviră cu un zgomot surd de uşa lui Klamm şi apoi rămaseră culcaţi în micile băltoace de bere şi în alte gunoaie răspândite pe podea. Acolo petrecură ore întregi, ore de răsuflare în comun, de bătăi de inimă comune, ore în care K. avea mereu senzaţia că se rătăceşte pe meleaguri străine sau că a ajuns atât de departe ca nimeni înaintea lui, într-o străinătate unde nici măcar aerul nu avea vreun comportament din atmosfera de acasă, unde trebuie să te sufoci de înstrăinare şi unde, împresurat de tentaţiile ei absurde, nu poţi face totuşi altceva decât să mergi înainte, să rătăceşti mai departe. Aşa că nu simţi spaimă în primul moment, ci mai degrabă o revenire consolatoare din obnubilaţie, când auzi că o voce profundă, poruncitor-calmă, o strigă pe Frieda din camera lui Klamm. "Frieda !" îi zice K. la ureche, transmiţându-i astfel chemarea. Mânată de o supunere de-a dreptul înnăscută, Frieda voia să sară în picioare, dar apoi îşi aminti unde se află, îşi întinse braţele, râse încetişor şi zise :
- Cum îţi închipui că o să mă duc. Nu mai mă duc niciodată la el.
K. voia să o contrazică, s-o convingă să se ducă la Klamm, începu să strângă de pe jos ce mai rămăsese din bluza ei, dar nu era în stare să spună nimic, era prea fericit s-o ţină pe Frieda între mâinile lui, prea fericit şi temător în acelaşi timp, căci i se păre că dacă Frieda îl părăseşte, îl părăseşte tot ce-i al lui.”
“¿Quién sabe lo que le espera al lado? Esto está lleno de oportunidades. Sólo que, sin lugar a dudas, hay oportunidades que en cierta manera son demasiado buenas para ser aprovechadas. Hay cosas que no fracasan por nada más que por sí mismas”
“Evidentemente, soy muy ignorante, la verdad es esa, y es muy triste para mi, pero esto supone una ventaja: El ignorante osa a más cosas. También estoy preparado para soportar todavía un poco la ignorancia y sus consecuencias -malas, de acuerdo- tanto como resistan mis fuerzas.”
“Hier war es wohl die Müdigkeit inmitten glücklicher Arbeit; etwas, was nach außen hin wie Müdigkeit aussah und eigentlich unzerstörbare Ruhe, unzerstörbarer Frieden war.”
“Правда, от болезни и усталости даже крестьянские лица становятся утонченней.”
“Околдовала его узкая, шелковистая куртка Варнавы, а сейчас тот расстегнул пуговицы, и снизу вылезла грубая, грязно-серая, латаная и перелатанная рубаха, обтягивавшая мощную, угловатую, костистую грудь батрака.”
“Какой еще помощник?» «Йозеф», – сказал ему К.”
“.تۆ به ههڵه له ههموو شتێك تێ دهگهیت، تهنانهت بێدهنگیش”
“repeat after me:
- except maybe yourself.”
“The woman serving me was wearing a white sports bra that looked like it had been mauled by tigers--desert isle chic. ”
“if you spin in a circle perhaps avoiding corners”
“Phoebe Marks was a person who never lost her individuality. Silent and self-contained, she seemed to hold herself within herself, and take no colour from the outer world.”
“Briefly, the Indiana biochemists encouraged me to learn organic chemistry, but after I used a bunsen burner to warm up some benzene, I was relieved from further true chemistry. It was safer to turn out an uneducated Ph.D. than to risk another explosion.”
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