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Poorly prepared for the dignity of life, I barely keep up with the pace of the action imposed. Reality demands.

Wislawa Szymborska

When I pronounce the word Future, the first syllable already belongs to the past. When I pronounce the word Silence, I destroy it.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Destroy Future Myself Past Silence Word
Get to know other worlds, if only for comparison.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Comparison Knowledge World
I cannot speak for more than an hour exclusively about poetry. At that point, life itself takes over again.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Myself Poetry Point Talk
Their faith will make it easier for them to live and die.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Death Easy Faith Live
No day copies yesterday, no two nights will teach what bliss is in precisely the same way, with precisely the same kisses.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Bliss Kiss Past Teaching Time Way
Existentialists are monumentally and monotonously serious; they don’t like to joke.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Boredom Existence Joke Monumental Serious
Loveless work, boring work, work valued only because others haven’t got even that much, however loveless and boring – this is one of the harshest human miseries.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Boredom Human Love Misery Work
Poets yearn, of course, to be published, read, and understood, but they do little, if anything, to set themselves above the common herd and the daily grind.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Common Poet Publish Reading Understand
I’m working on the world, revised, improved edition, featuring fun for fools blues for brooders, combs for bald pates, tricks for old dogs.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Dog Edition Myself Old Revision Work World
No one in my family has ever died of love. What happened, happened, but nothing myth-inspiring.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Death Family Love Mythical
My choices are rejections, since there is no other way, but what I reject is more numerous, denser, more demanding than before. A little poem, a sigh, at the cost of indescribable losses.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Choice Demand Loss Myself Rejection Way
We’re extremely fortunate not to know precisely the kind of world we live in. One would have to live a long, long time, unquestionably longer than the world itself.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Fortune Kind Live Precise Question World
The joy of writing. The power of preserving. Revenge of a mortal hand.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Hands Joy Mortal Perseverance Power Revenge Writing
Somewhere out there the world must have an end.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Cosmos End Space World
When it comes, you’ll be dreaming that you don’t need to breathe; that breathless silence is the music of the dark and it’s part of the rhythm to vanish like a spark.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Breathe Darkness Dreams Music Need Rhythm Spark
I’d have to be really quick to describe clouds – a split second’s enough for them to start being something else.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Cloud Description Enough Myself Quick Start

Poorly prepared for the dignity of life, I barely keep up with the pace of the action imposed. Reality demands.

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Poorly prepared for the dignity of life, I barely keep up with the pace of the action imposed. Reality demands.

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