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literature

being alive

“there has never been a time in which i have been convinced from within myself that i am alive. you see, i have only such a fugitive awareness of things around me that i always feel they were once real and are now fleeting away. i have a constant longing, my dear sir, to catch a glimpse of thins as they may have been before they show themselves to me. i feel that then they were calm and beautiful. it must be so, for i often hear people talking about them as though they were.”

|| franz kafka, coversation with the supplicant

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About david b. clark

a husband and father || a student of philosophy, theology, history, literature, music, art, computer science

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