“ Of course there are always dark hours, everyone has them, when it seems that one has accomplished nothing, when it seems as if the only trials that turned out well were those that were destined to do so from the very beginning, without any help at all, while all the others were lost in spite of following them so closely, in spite of all the effort, all the small apparent victories that gave such pleasure. Then of course nothing seems certain any longer, and if pressed specifically one does not even dare deny that trials by nature should have turned out well were thrown off course precisely by the assistance offered. That too is a type of belief in oneself after all, but it the only sort that remains.
— Franz Kafka, The Trial.
