“I don’t know!” I cried without being heard. “I do not know.” If nobody comes, then nobody comes. I’ve done nobody any harm. Nobody’s done me any harm. But nobody will help me. A pack of nobodies would be rather fine, on the other hand. I’d love to go on a trip — why not? – with a pack of nobodies. Into the mountains, of course. Where else? -“Excursion into the Mountains,” By a Writer who was an unusual and unhappy man who believed life to be quite fruitless and unfulfilling. To prove a point, he spent years of his time writing novels which he left unfinished, then, as he was dying, he asked his best mate to burn them. Luckily for us, they were never burnt, but in fact were published.He is is a brilliant writer, so it would be a sad thing to never read his novels. Sure they may not have an ending, but, like life itself, the joy is in the journey. And he is Franz Kafka and most probably today is his birthday.
Posted on: Fri, 04 Jul 2014 06:57:29 +0000
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