Some deny the existence of misery by pointing to the sun; he denies the existence of the sun by pointing to misery.
Franz KafkaRead
Photography concentrates one's eye on the superficial. For that reason it obscures the hidden life which glimmers through the outlines of things like a play of light and shade. One can't catch that even with the sharpest lens.
Interpretation
Photography captures visual appearances while often missing deeper truths and emotions.
Franz Kafka's quote reflects on the limitations of photography as an art form. While it can capture the surface beauty of subjects, it often fails to reveal the underlying essence and complexities of life. The metaphor of light and shade suggests that there are layers of meaning that go beyond what the eye can see, implying that true understanding requires more than just a visual representation.
In practice
During a photography exhibit, one might quote Kafka to provoke thought on the depth of what is captured in images.
Some deny the existence of misery by pointing to the sun; he denies the existence of the sun by pointing to misery.
One can disintegrate the world by means of very strong light. For weak eyes the world becomes solid, for still weaker eyes it seems to develop fists, for eyes weaker still it becomes shamefaced and smashes anyone who dares to gaze upon it.
But Gregor understood easily that it was not only consideration for him which prevented their moving, for he could easily have been transported in a suitable crate with a few air holes; what mainly prevented the family from moving was their complete hopelessness and the thought that they had been struck by a misfortune as none of their relatives and acquaintances had ever been hit.
Association with human beings lures one into self-observation.
A non-writing writer is a monster courting insanity.
The ulterior motives with which you absorb and assimilate Evil are not your own but those of Evil. _x000D_ The animal wrests the whip from its master and whips itself in order to become master, not knowing that this is only a fantasy produced by a new knot in the master's whiplash.
I love New York. You can pop out of the Underworld in Central Park, hail a taxi, head down Fifth Avenue with a giant hellhound loping behind you, and nobody even looks at you funny.
With its fluctuating forms and needless decoration, fashion epitomizes the supposedly unproductive waste that inspired 20th-century technocrats to dream of central planning. It exists for no good reason. But that's practically a definition of art.
You become a different writer when you approach a short story. When things are not always having to represent other things, you find real human beings begin to cautiously appear on your pages.
I have come to the conclusion there is no point making anything if you're not going to make people laugh and cry.
I am a poet who composes what life proses, and who proses what life composes.
It was - I'm very didactic in my lyrics, but I've always been drawn to mock my own emotions, and so I write this very lyric-heavy stuff, which suits theater and comedy much more than it suits pop.
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