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No one in my family has ever died of love. What happened, happened, but nothing myth-inspiring.
Wislawa Szymborska
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Wislawa Szymborska
Age: 88 †
Born: 1923
Born: July 2
Died: 2012
Died: February 1
Critic
Essayist
Literary Critic
Mechanic
Poet
Translator
Writer
Kornik
Maria Wisława Anna Szymborska
Szymborska
Nothing
Love
Myth
Inspiring
Died
Happened
Family
Ever
More quotes by Wislawa Szymborska
Even the worst book can give us something to think about.
Wislawa Szymborska
Whether you want it or not, your genes have a political past, your skin a political tone. your eyes a political color. ... you walk with political steps on political ground.
Wislawa Szymborska
I cannot speak for more than an hour exclusively about poetry. At that point, life itself takes over again.
Wislawa Szymborska
I'm fighting against the bad poet who is prone to using too many words.
Wislawa Szymborska
Any knowledge that doesn't lead to new questions quickly dies out: it fails to maintain the temperature required for sustaining life.
Wislawa Szymborska
History counts its skeletons in round numbers. A thousand and one remains a thousand, as though the one had never existed: an imaginary embryo, an empty cradle, ... emptiness running down steps toward the garden, nobody's place in line.
Wislawa Szymborska
I cannot imagine any writer who would not fight for his peace and quiet.
Wislawa Szymborska
But they know about us, they know, the four corners, and the chairs nearby us. Discerning shadows also know, and even the table keeps quiet.
Wislawa Szymborska
I don't know the role I'm playing. I only know it's mine, non-convertible.
Wislawa Szymborska
This terrifying world is not devoid of charms, of the mornings that make waking up worthwhile.
Wislawa Szymborska
They say the first love's most important. That's very romantic, but not my experience.
Wislawa Szymborska
You can find the entire cosmos lurking in its least remarkable objects.
Wislawa Szymborska
Four billion people on this earth, but my imagination is still the same. It's bad with large numbers. It's still taken by particularity. It flits in the dark like a flashlight, illuminating only random faces while all the rest go blindly by, never coming to mind and never really missed. . . . I can't tell you how much I pass over in silence.
Wislawa Szymborska
There's simply too much fuss about myself.
Wislawa Szymborska
Nothing can ever happen twice. In consequence, the sorry fact is that we arrive here improvised and leave without the chance to practice.
Wislawa Szymborska
I'd have to be really quick to describe clouds - a split second's enough for them to start being something else.
Wislawa Szymborska
In the language of poetry, where every word is weighed, nothing is usual or normal. Not a single stone and not a single cloud above it. Not a single day and not a single night after it. And above all, not a single existence, not anyone's existence in this world.
Wislawa Szymborska
I prefer the hell of chaos to the hell of order.
Wislawa Szymborska
Every beginning is only a sequel, after all, and the book of events is always open halfway through.
Wislawa Szymborska
Secret codes resound. Doubts and intentions come to light.
Wislawa Szymborska
