"If you were one of those people who are affected by someone thinking of you, you would have woken up with a start in the middle of the night; reading in bed in the morning the lines would have become blurred; at breakfast your eyes would have strayed beyond your coca and rolls, and even beyond your mother; the orchids you were taking to a new apartment would have petrified in your hand, and only now…would you be left in peace, for now I am not thinking of you, rather I am with you." Franz Kafka, November 3 1912 (Letters To Felice)
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