After every war someone has to tidy up.
Category Archive: 1923
When I was young I had a moment of believing in the Communist doctrine. I wanted to save the world through Communism. Quite soon I understood that it doesn’t work, but I’ve never pretended it didn’t happen to me.
Is a decision made in advance really any kind of choice.
All is mine but nothing owned, nothing owned for memory, and mine only while I look.
I cannot imagine any writer who would not fight for his peace and quiet.
Get to know other worlds, if only for comparison. I am near, too near for him to dream of me.
My assumption is that fundamentally the picture of the human animal, as developed by Freud, is largely right.
It doesn’t seem to me strange that children should like the macabre, the sensational, and the forbidden.
I’m drowning in papers.
There’s simply too much fuss about myself.