Der wahre Weg geht über ein Seil, das nicht in der Höhe gespannt ist, sondern knapp über dem Boden. Es scheint mehr bestimmt, stolpern zu machen, als begangen zu werden.

A Comment

It was very early in the morning, the streets clean and deserted, I was on my way to the station. As I compared my watch with the clock on a tower I saw that it was much later than I had thought, I had to make great haste; in my alarm at this discovery I became unsure of the way, I was still something of a stranger in this town; luckily, there was a policeman at hand, I ran up to him and breathlessly asked him the way.

He smiled and said: “Do you expect to discover the way from me?”

“Yes,” I said, “since I cannot find it myself.”

“Give it up, give it up,” said he, and turned away with a great flourish, like a man who wants to be alone with his laughter.
Franz Kafka, Complete Stories