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Something doesn’t start at its usual time. Something doesn’t happen as it should. Someone was always, always here, then suddenly disappeared and stubbornly stays disappeared.

Wislawa Szymborska

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Disappear Start Stay Stubborn Time

Bagwalas

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Marilyn Monroe Paulo Coelho Abraham Lincoln C. S. Lewis Khalil Gibran Charlie Chaplin Gautama Buddha Isaac Newton

God was finally going to believe in a man both good and strong, but good and strong are still two different men.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Believe Different God Goodness Man Strong
There’s simply too much fuss about myself.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Confusion Mess Myself Simplicity
Life lasts but a few scratches of the claw in the sand.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Land Life Scratch Time
The joy of writing. The power of preserving. Revenge of a mortal hand.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Hands Joy Mortal Perseverance Power Revenge Writing
They say the first love’s most important. That’s very romantic, but not my experience.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Experience Important Love Myself Romantic
All the best have something in common, a regard for reality, an agreement to its primacy over the imagination.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Agreement Best Common Imagination Reality Regard
Whatever inspiration is, it’s born from a continuous “I don’t know.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Born Inspirational Myself Unknown
I am who I am. A coincidence no less unthinkable than any other.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Myself Personality Thinking
It’s just not easy to explain to someone else what you don’t understand yourself.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Easy Explanation Understand Yourself
I’m drowning in papers.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Drown Myself One Liner Paper Poet
Out of every hundred people, those who always know better: fifty-two.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Better Knowledge People
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
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
Secret codes resound. Doubts and intentions come to light.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Code Light Secret
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
I don’t know the role I’m playing. I only know it’s mine, non-convertible.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Myself Play Role

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