The Metamorphosis

As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into an enormous insect.

"Hey, there’s something falling down in there," said the chief clerk. Gregor tried to suppose to himself that what had happened to him might some day also happen to the chief clerk. There was no denying that anything was possible.

How about if I sleep a little bit longer and forget all this nonsense.

What a fate: to be condemned to work for a firm where the slightest negligence at once gave rise to the gravest suspicion! Were all the employees nothing but a bunch of scoundrels, was there not among them one single loyal devoted man who, had he wasted only an hour or so of the firm's time in the morning, was so tormented by conscience as to be driven out of his mind and actually incapable of leaving his bed?

I cannot make you understand. I cannot make anyone understand what is happening inside me. I cannot even explain it to myself.

He thought back on his family with deep emotion and love. His conviction that he would have to disappear was, if possible, even firmer than his sister's. He remained in this state of empty and peaceful reflection until the tower clock struck three in the morning. He still saw that outside the window everything was beginning to grow light. Then, without his consent, his head sank down to the floor, and from his nostrils streamed his last weak breath.

Was he an animal, that music could move him so? He felt as if the way to the unknown nourishment he longed for were coming to light.