All a writer wants is to be read, and people are so flattering and lovely. I mean, there are witches out there as well. But most are so kind.
Kafka could never have written as he did had he lived in a house. His writing is that of someone whose whole life was spent in apartments, with lifts, stairwells, muffled voices behind closed doors, and sounds through walls. Put him in a nice detached villa and he'd never have written a word.