“Our field is the sky, tilled by the sweat of motors, in the face of night, at the risk of our dreams--- …. … … … … Who lived there? Whose hands were pure? Who glowed in the night, A… — Ingeborg Bachmann Copy Share Image
If we had the right words, if we had the language, we would need no weapons. — Ingeborg Bachmann Copy Share Image
I myself am a person who has never resigned myself, who is absolutely never resigned, who can’t imagine it at all. I simply observe,… — Ingeborg Bachmann Copy Share Image
“Nonetheless even in capitulation there is still hope, and this hope of human beings never ends, will never end.” — Ingeborg Bachmann Copy Share Image
“If I had not immersed myself in books, in stories and legends, in newspapers, in reports, if everything communicable had not grown up in… — Ingeborg Bachmann Copy Share Image
“...all of this is such a long and dark and untellable story (untellable as all stories are). Meanwhile, one can only hold onto what… — Ingeborg Bachmann Copy Share Image
“...the simple task of getting dressed and undressed was a real strain, but nothing could compare with her addiction to deep sleep...” — Ingeborg Bachmann Copy Share Image
“Never was there so much magic over things as when you spoke, and never were words so powerful. You could make speech flare up,… — Ingeborg Bachmann Copy Share Image
“Hello! It could only have been Andre, but she replaced the receiver instantly, reaching for the tiny, crumpled scrap of paper and tucking it… — Ingeborg Bachmann Copy Share Image
Silent night, holy night, when the bough flies from the tree and is hung everywhere, when from tables the crusts fly, when the gifts… — Ingeborg Bachmann Copy Share Image
