mascha.

“This now-ness is the only reality we know; it follows the colored nothingness of the no-longer and precedes the absolute nothingness of the future. Thus, in a quite literal sense, we may say that conscious human life lasts always only one moment, for at any moment of deliberate attention to our own flow of consciousness we cannot know if that moment will be followed by another.”

“(Kafka’s) jealousy of other writers, as far as Felice’s interest in them is concerned, is just as strong as jealousy usually is; one is astonished and relieved to find Kafka being so naturally, wholeheartedly aggressive towards others. Throughout these numerous letters one can hear the better-known voice of the Kafka who is aggressive toward himself. Yet the unusual tone of these attacks on other writers, who are actually worlds apart from him, the murderous quality of the attacks, their crassness, are symptomatic of a change in his relationship with Felice. This change takes a tragic turn because of her failure to understand his writing. He needs her strength as a steady flow of sustenance for his work; yet she is not capable of comprehending who it is that she is sustaining with her letters.”