Every beginning is only a sequel, after all, and the book of events is always open halfway through. Wislawa Szymborska More Quotes by Wislawa Szymborska More Quotes From 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 four shadow tables After every war someone has to tidy up. Wislawa Szymborska tidy war I'm one-time-only to the marrow of my bones. Wislawa Szymborska marrow one-time bones Even the worst book can give us something to think about. Wislawa Szymborska giving book thinking I slide my arm from under the sleeper's head and it is numb, full of swarming pins, on the tip of each, waiting to be counted, the fallen angels sit. Wislawa Szymborska angel waiting hands A Note Life is the only way to get covered in leaves, catch your breath on the sand, rise on wings; to be a dog, or stroke its warm fur; to tell pain from everything it's not; to squeeze inside events, dawdle in views, to seek the least of all possible mistakes. An extraordinary chance to remember for a moment a conversation held with the lamp switched off; and if only once to stumble upon a stone, end up soaked in one downpour or another, mislay your keys in the grass; and to follow a spark on the wind with your eyes; and to keep on not knowing something important. Wislawa Szymborska pain dog mistake I cannot imagine any writer who would not fight for his peace and quiet. Wislawa Szymborska imagine fighting quiet Everyone needs solitude, especially a person who is used to thinking about what she experiences. Solitude is very important in my work as a mode of inspiration, but isolation is not good in this respect. I am not writing poetry about isolation. Wislawa Szymborska inspiration writing thinking What does the world get from two people/who exist in a world of their own? Wislawa Szymborska doe two people I'm fighting against the bad poet who is prone to using too many words. Wislawa Szymborska poet fighting I started earning a living as a poet rather early on. Wislawa Szymborska earning-a-living poet earning I'd have to be really quick to describe clouds - a split second's enough for them to start being something else. Wislawa Szymborska splits enough clouds I am a tarsier and a tarsier's son, the grandson and great-grandson of tarsiers, a tiny creature, made up of two pupils and whatever simply could not be left out. Wislawa Szymborska tiny two son When it comes, you’ll be dreaming that you don’t need to breathe; that breathless silence is the music of the dark and it’s part of the rhythm to vanish like a spark. Wislawa Szymborska silence dark dream Poorly prepared for the dignity of life, I barely keep up with the pace of the action imposed. Reality demands. Wislawa Szymborska demand pace reality Secret codes resound. Doubts and intentions come to light. Wislawa Szymborska light secret doubt Dying - you can't do that to a cat. Wislawa Szymborska cat dying I'm working on the world, revised, improved edition, featuring fun for fools blues for brooders, combs for bald pates, tricks for old dogs. Wislawa Szymborska dog fun world Somewhere out there the world must have an end. Wislawa Szymborska end-of-the-world ends world History counts its skeletons in round numbers. Wislawa Szymborska garden running war
