“True love. Is it normal is it serious, is it practical? What does the world get from two people who exist in… — Wisława Szymborska Copy Share Image
“We, too, can divide ourselves, it’s true. / But only into flesh and a broken whisper. / Into flesh and poetry.” — Wisława Szymborska Copy Share Image
“I’ve wanted to write about them for a long while, but it’s a tricky subject, always put off for later and perhaps… — Wisława Szymborska Copy Share Image
“Whatever inspiration is, it's born from a continuous "I don't know."...That is why I value that little phrase "I don't know" so… — Wisława Szymborska Copy Share Image
“ A Hard Life With Memory I’m a poor audience for my memory. She wants me to attend her voice nonstop, but… — Wisława Szymborska Copy Share Image
“History didn’t greet us with triumphal fanfares: —it flung dirty sand into our eyes. Ahead of us lay long roads leading nowhere, poisoned wells… — Wisława Szymborska Copy Share Image
“Nothing Twice Nothing can ever happen twice. In consequence, the sorry fact is that we arrive here improvised and leave without the chance to practice. Even if there is no one dumber, if you’re the planet’s biggest dunce, you can’t repeat the class in summer: this course is only offered once. No day copies yesterday, no… — Wisława Szymborska Copy Share
“True love. Is it normal is it serious, is it practical? What does the world get from two people who exist in a world… — Wisława Szymborska Copy Share Image
“We have a soul at times. No one’s got it non-stop, for keeps. Day after day, year after year may pass without it. Sometimes it will settle for awhile only in childhood’s fears and raptures. Sometimes only in astonishment that we are old. It rarely lends a hand in uphill tasks, like moving furniture, or lifting luggage, or going miles… — Wisława Szymborska Copy Share
“We, too, can divide ourselves, it’s true. / But only into flesh and a broken whisper. / Into flesh and poetry.” — Wisława Szymborska Copy Share Image
“within the four walls of avalanches, I call out to Yeti. Stomping my feet for warmth on the snow the snow eternal.” — Wisława Szymborska Copy Share Image
“I’ll never find out now What A. thought of me. If B. ever forgave me in the end. Why C. pretended everything was fine. What part D. played in E.’s silence. What F. had been expecting, if anything. Why G. forgot when she knew perfectly well. What H. had to hide. What I. wanted to add. If my being around… — Wisława Szymborska Copy Share
“I’ve wanted to write about them for a long while, but it’s a tricky subject, always put off for later and perhaps worthy of… — Wisława Szymborska Copy Share Image
“The Real World' The real word doesn't take flight the way dreams do. No muffled voice, no doorbell can dispel it, no shriek, no crash can cut it short. Images in dreams are hazy and ambiguous, and can generally be explained in many different ways. Reality means reality: that's tougher nut to crack. Dreams have keys. The real world opens… — Wisława Szymborska Copy Share
“We leven langer, maar minder nauwkeurig en in kortere zinnen.” — Wisława Szymborska Copy Share Image
