The Castle, by Kafka

There was also in the main square a church, part of it surrounded by an old cemetery, which in turn was enclosed by a high wall, only a few boys could climb it, and even K could not succeed. Curiosity was not what drove them to do that, for the cemetery no longer held secrets for them. They had entered it several times before through its iron gate, but they sought to conquer it from above the high and smooth wall. One day before noon – the silent and empty square was overflowing with sunlight – K succeeded in a way that was astonishing, in a place where he had previously failed many times, in climbing from the first attempt, and between his teeth a small flag. The pieces of stone were still falling beneath him when he ascended the wall. He planted the flag in a crack, and the wind spread the cloth, he looked down and around him, as well as from over his shoulder to the horizon, then to the crosses embedded in the ground; no one here and now was bigger than him.