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'[...] sleep? On a night like this? What an idea! Just think how many thoughts a blanket smothers while one lies alone in bed, and how many unhappy dreams it keeps warm.'
just pretty language
[...] Who knows, this man--thinking of housemaid affairs while walking beside me, his mouth steaming with cold--might be capable of bestowing on me in the eyes of the world a value without my having to work for it. [...]
shit
And now the evening sun's slanting rays broke forth from behind the rims of the great cloud and illuminated the hills and mountains as far as the eye could see, while the river and the region beneath the cloud lay in an uncertain light.
pretty
'[...] People who live alone have no responsibility in the evenings. One fears a number of things--that one's body could vanish, that human beings may really be what they appear to be at twilight, that one might not be allowed to walk without a stick, that it might be a good idea to go to church and pray at the top of one's voice in order to be looked at and acquire a body.'
[...] '[...] One works so feverishly at the office that afterwards one is too tired even to enjoy one's holidays properly. But even all that work does not give one a claim to be treated lovingly by everyone; on the contrary, one is alone, a total stranger and only an object of curiosity. And as long as you say "one" instead of "I", there's nothing in it and one can easily tell the story; but as soon as you admit to yourself that it is yourself, you feel as though transfixed and are horrified.'
god this story kills me
[...] while villages come toward us and flash past, while at the same time they turn away into the depths of the country, where for us they must disappear. And yet these villages are inhabited, and there perhaps travelers go from shop to shop.
(the main character, Raban, is a traveling salesman)
'Ten thousand times!' said Georg, to make fun of his father, but in his very mouth the words turned into deadly earnest.
in the weird story about Georg's senile father and his random friend in Siberia
[...] 'What a quiet life our family has been leading,' said Gregor to himself, and as he sat there motionless staring into the darkness he felt great pride in the fact that he had been able to provide a life for his parents and sister in such a fine flat. But what if all the quiet, the comfort, the contentment were now to end in horror? To keep himself from being lost in such thoughts Gregor took refuge in movement and crawled up and down the room.
[...] They grew quieter and half unconsciously exchanged glances of complete agreement, having come to the conclusion that it would soon be time to find a good husband for her. And it was like a comfirmation of their new dreams and excellent intentions that at the end of their journey their daughter sprang to her feet first and stretched her young body.
subtle
One evening Blumfield, an elderly bachelor, was climbing up to his apartment--a laborious undertaking, for he lived on the sixth floor. While climbing up he thought, as he had so often recently, how unpleasant this utterly lonely life was: to reach his empty rooms he had to climb these six floors almost in secret, there put on his dressing gown, again almost in secret, [...] Some companion, someone to witness these activities, would have been very welcome to Blumfield. [...] even if the dog remains healthy, one day it will grow old, and then comes the moment when one's own age peers out at one from the dog's oozing eyes. Then one has to cope with the half-blind, weak-lunged animal all but immobile with fat, and in this way pay dearly for the pleasures the dog once had given. Much as Blumfield would like to have a dog at this moment, he would rather go on climbing the stairs alone for another thirty years than be burdened later on by such an old dog which, sighing louder than he, would drag itself up, step by step.
gratification without sacrifice isn't gratification at all, my friend