Personally I am indifferent to the art of painting, preferring live and truthful nature.) Thus, owing to the nature of the material, before commencing a new picture, K.had to destroy the previous one by wiping it off his slate, and this seemed to lead him every time to the verge of madness.
"You cannot imagine what it means," he would say, clutching my hands with his thin, clinging fingers.

"While I draw, you know, I forget entirely that it is useless; I am usually very cheerful and I even whistle some tune, and once I was even incarcerated for that, as it is forbidden to whistle in this cursed prison.

But that is a trifle--for I had at least a good sleep there.

But when I finish my picture--no, even when I approach the end of the picture, I am seized with a sensation so terrible that I feel like tearing the brain from my head and trampling it with my feet.

Do you understand me ?" "I understand you, my friend, I understand you perfectly, and I sympathise with you." "Really?
Well, then, listen, old man.