The joy of writing. The power of preserving. Revenge of a mortal hand.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKAAll the best have something in common, a regard for reality, an agreement to its primacy over the imagination.
More Wislawa Szymborska Quotes
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I’m one-time-only to the marrow of my bones.
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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.
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Though I may deny poets their monopoly on inspiration, I still place them in a select group of Fortune’s darlings.
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All imperfection is easier to tolerate if served up in small doses.
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I slide my arm from under the sleeper’s head and it is numb, full of swarming pins, on the tip of each, waiting to be counted, the fallen angels sit.
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When I pronounce the word Future, the first syllable already belongs to the past. When I pronounce the word Silence, I destroy it.
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No one feels good at four in the morning. If ants feel good at four in the morning —three cheers for the ants.
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Life lasts but a few scratches of the claw in the sand.
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After every war someone has to tidy up.
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Out of every hundred people, those who always know better: fifty-two.
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Animals don’t even try to look any different from what nature intended. They humbly wear their shells, scales, spines, plumes, pelts, and down. The conscious impulse to change one’s appearance is found only among humans.
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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.
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God was finally going to believe in a man both good and strong, but good and strong are still two different men.
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Even a graphomaniac is an extremely complicated person.
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Somewhere out there the world must have an end.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA