Brod Quotes

#1. Brod's life was a slow realisation that the world was not for her, and that for whatever reason, she would never be happy and honest at the same time.

Jonathan Safran Foer

#2. Sofiowka was found the next morning, swinging by the neck from the wooden bridge. His severed hands were hanging from strings tied to his feet, and across his chest was written, in Brod's red lipstick, ANIMAL

Jonathan Safran Foer

#3. A non-writing writer is a monster courting insanity.
[Letter to Max Brod, July 5, 1922]

Franz Kafka

#4. Brod was afraid any tears of her own would cause the walls of the old house to give way, so she sandbagged them behind her eyes, exiled them to someplace deeper, safer.

Jonathan Safran Foer

#5. As told by Kafka's close friend Max Brod:

"Suddenly he began to speak to the fish in their illuminated tanks. 'Now at least I can look at you in peace, I don't eat you anymore.' It was the time he turned strictly vegetarian.

Jonathan Safran Foer

#6. That was the problem with love. It never happened on your terms, it happened on theirs.

Shannon L. Alder

#7. There were variations on the truth, of course, but wasn't it always the hard one that worked the best?

D.C. Brod

#8. There is a little gland in the brain in which the soul exercises its functions in a more particular way than in the other parts.

Rene Descartes

#9. If the voices in your head make you cry, you're a lunatic. Put their words on paper, and you're a writer.

D. VonThaer

#10. To remember is to leave the present.

Garth Stein

#11. Your past is a place for reference, not residence.

Ifeanyi Enoch Onuoha

#12. Discipleship ... a process of unleashing the creative potential in each person.

Erwin Raphael McManus

#13. Men are misers, and women prodigal, in affection.

Alphonse De Lamartine

#14. In a retreat the lame are formost.
[In a retreat the lame are foremost.]

George Herbert

#15. Let us chide ourselves for past forgetfulness, and pray for grace ever to bear Him in fondest remembrance. Lord, paint upon the eyeballs of my soul the image of Thy Son.

Charles Haddon Spurgeon