Read for yourselves, read for the sake of your inspiration, for the sweet turmoil in your lovely head. But also read against yourselves, read for questioning and impotence, for despair and erudition... and also read those whose darkness or malice… — Adam Zagajewski Copy Share Image
A little rain, a little blood. Black fingernails in August; and going berserk, going bananas. As if entrapped in a tropical heatwave, with dozens of whirlwinds swirling in one’s mind, one thinks of a way out, or a way in:… — Adam Zagajewski Copy Share Image
Clear moments are so short. There is much more darkness. More ocean than terra firma. More shadow than form. — Adam Zagajewski Copy Share Image
“But where do we find what's lasting? Where do the deathless things hide?” — Adam Zagajewski Copy Share Image
Once in a while it vanishes - in the sense that I become deaf to beauty for a week or two or three. This… — Adam Zagajewski Copy Share Image
“Epithalamium Without silence there would be no music. Life paired is doubtless more difficult than solitary existence - just as a boat on the… — Adam Zagajewski Copy Share Image
“- Everything's finished. Riders gallop black horses, a tyrant composes a sentence of death with grammatical errors. Youth dissolves in a day; girls' faces… — Adam Zagajewski Copy Share Image
Gabriel Levin's book is a journey through time and through entrenched animosities of the Middle East. What's astonishing and refreshing is his ability to… — Adam Zagajewski Copy Share Image
Read for yourselves, read for the sake of your inspiration, for the sweet turmoil in your lovely head. But also read against yourselves, read… — Adam Zagajewski Copy Share Image
Cities at daybreak are no one's, and have no names. And I, too, have no name, dawn, the stars growing pale, the train picking… — Adam Zagajewski Copy Share Image
“Read for yourselves, read for the sake of your inspiration, for the sweet turmoil in your lovely head. But also read against yourselves, read… — Adam Zagajewski Copy Share Image
This day's nothingness as if from spite became a flame and scorched the lips of children and poets. — Adam Zagajewski Copy Share Image
