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Grow your tree of falsehood from a small grain of truth. Do not follow those who lie in contempt of reality. Let your lie be even more logical than the truth itself, so the weary travelers may find repose.
Czeslaw Milosz
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Czeslaw Milosz
Age: 93 †
Born: 1911
Born: June 30
Died: 2004
Died: August 14
Diplomat
Essayist
Pedagogue
Poet
Translator
University Teacher
Writer
Clarksburg
West Virginia
MiĆosz
Czelaw Milosz
Even
Tree
Traveler
Grows
Falsehood
Small
Weary
Lying
Grain
Reality
Contempt
Truth
Logical
May
Follow
Travelers
Find
Grow
Repose
More quotes by Czeslaw Milosz
I imagine the earth when I am no more: Women's dresses, dewy lilacs, a song in the valley. Yet the books will be there on the shelves, well born, Derived from people, but also from radiance, heights.
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The history of my stupidity would fill many volumes.
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I liked beaches, swimming pools, and clinics for there they were the bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh. I pitied them and myself, but this will not protect me. The word and the thought are over.
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Human reason is beautiful and invincible. No bars, no barbed wire, no pulping of books, No sentence of banishment can prevail against it. It puts what should be above things as they are. It does not know Jew from Greek nor slave from master.
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In a room where people unanimously maintain a conspiracy of silence, one word of truth sounds like a pistol shot.
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When I curse Fate, it's not me, but the earth in me.
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A day so happy. Fog lifted early. I worked in the garden. Hummingbirds were stopping over honeysuckle flowers. There was no thing on earth I wanted to possess. I know no one worth my envying him.
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Be young forever, seasons of the earth.
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What is poetry which does not save nations or people?
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Men will clutch at illusions when they have nothing else to hold to.
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A weak human mercy walks in the corridors of hospitals and is like a half-thawed winter.
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A true opium of the people is a belief in nothingness after death.
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It's true that what is morbid is highly valued today, and so you may think that I am only joking or that I've devised just one more means of praising Art with the help of irony.
Czeslaw Milosz
We have become indifferent to content, and react, not even to form, but to technique, to technical efficiency itself.
Czeslaw Milosz
All was taken away from you: white dresses, wings, even existence.
Czeslaw Milosz
You see how I try To reach with words What matters most And how I fail.
Czeslaw Milosz
It is sweet to think I was a companion in an expedition that never ends
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Do not feel safe. The poet remembers. You can kill one, but another is born. The words are written down, the deed, the date.
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They used to pour millet on graves or poppy seeds To feed the dead who would come disguised as birds. I put this book here for you, who once lived So that you should visit us no more.
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I think that I am here, on this earth, to present a report on it, but to whom I don't know. As if I were sent so that whatever takes place has meaning because it changes into memory.
Czeslaw Milosz