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This is a personal project by @dellsystem. I built this to help me retain information from the books I'm reading.

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242

The Hunter Gracchus

3
terms
1
notes

Kafka, F. (1999). The Hunter Gracchus. In Kafka, F. The Complete Short Stories. Vintage Classics, pp. 242-247

(noun) a framework for carrying / (noun) a stand on which a corpse or coffin is placed / (noun) a coffin together with its stand

242

two other men in dark coats with silver buttons carried a bier, on which, beneath a great flower-patterned fringe silk cloth, a man was apparently dying

—p.242 by Franz Kafka
uncertain
7 years, 3 months ago

two other men in dark coats with silver buttons carried a bier, on which, beneath a great flower-patterned fringe silk cloth, a man was apparently dying

—p.242 by Franz Kafka
uncertain
7 years, 3 months ago

(noun) a bell tower / (noun) one surmounting or attached to another structure / (noun) a room or framework for enclosing a bell / (noun) head

242

A flock of doves which had been flying around the belfry alighted in the street before the house.

forgot the meaning

—p.242 by Franz Kafka
uncertain
7 years, 3 months ago

A flock of doves which had been flying around the belfry alighted in the street before the house.

forgot the meaning

—p.242 by Franz Kafka
uncertain
7 years, 3 months ago

(noun) a roofed open gallery especially at an upper story overlooking an open court

243

led him around the bright and elegant loggia which encircled the courtyard

—p.243 by Franz Kafka
confirm
7 years, 3 months ago

led him around the bright and elegant loggia which encircled the courtyard

—p.243 by Franz Kafka
confirm
7 years, 3 months ago
247

'[...] I am here, more than that I do not know, further than that I cannot go. My ship has no rudder, and it is drive by the wind that blows in the undermost regions of death.'

—p.247 by Franz Kafka 7 years, 3 months ago

'[...] I am here, more than that I do not know, further than that I cannot go. My ship has no rudder, and it is drive by the wind that blows in the undermost regions of death.'

—p.247 by Franz Kafka 7 years, 3 months ago