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| Link | Quote | Stars | Tags | Author |
| daaa506 | What we miss - what we lose and what we mourn - isn't it this that makes us who, deep down, we truly are. | Sigrid Nunez | ||
| c7191ab | What exactly did Simone Weil mean when she said, When you have to make a decision in life, about what you should do, do what will cost you the most. Do what is difficult because it is difficult. Do what will cost you the most. Who these people? | decisions difficulty implications life | Sigrid Nunez | |
| 9d25602 | I like that the Aborigines say dogs make people human | dogs pets | Sigrid Nunez | |
| 9f7dce0 | To draw me out, the therapist asks what I did for the holidays. When I tell him he says gently (he says everything gently), Sounds like that's one of the ways your loss has affected you: not wanting to be with other people. Hating to be with other people, I don't say. Terrified of being with other people. | grief isolation loneliness loss mourning solitude | Sigrid Nunez | |
| 604bcc4 | You caught some flak for questioning whether there could really be such a thing as a flaneuse. You didn't think it was possible for a woman to wander the streets in the same spirit and manner as a man. A female pedestrian was subject to constant disruptions: stares, comments, catcalls, gropes. A woman was raised to be always on guard: Was this guy walking too close? Was that guy following her? How, then, could she ever relax enough to exper.. | Sigrid Nunez | ||
| 844ad29 | I've known plenty of women who brace themselves whenever they leave the house, even a few who try to avoid leaving the house. Of course, a woman has only to wait until she's a certain age, when she becomes invisible, and--problem solved. | Sigrid Nunez | ||
| 7ed737e | I confess to sudden rages. Walking in Midtown, rush hour's peak, people streaming in both directions, I find myself seething, ready to kill. Who are all these fucking people, and how is it fair, how is it even possible that all of them, these perfectly ordinary people, should be alive, when -- | death grief life loss mourning rage | Sigrid Nunez | |
| a78cdca | A friend of mine who is working on a memoir says, I hate the idea of writing as some kind of catharsis, because it seems like that can't possibly produce a good book. You cannot hope to console yourself for your grief by writing, warns Natalia Ginzburg. Turn then to Isak Dinesen, who believed that you could make any sorrow bearable by putting into into a story or telling a story about it. | grief loss sorrow writing | Sigrid Nunez | |
| 1842053 | They don't want to see me lose my home. They want me to come to my senses before it's too late. I need a better way to cope with my feelings of loss and guilt. I need bereavement therapy. Here are some names. I should think about medication. Here's what worked for them. There are books. There are websites. There are support groups. Healing won't come from withdrawing into a fantasy world, isolating myself, spending all my time with a dog. T.. | bereavement grief healing intervention loss mourning | Sigrid Nunez | |
| 681648c | There is always something about conscious tact that is very irritating. | Agatha Christie | ||
| 2a4f31a | 'I have often noticed that being a devoted wife saps the intellect,' murmured Tommy. | Agatha Christie | ||
| 13346b7 | Tuve yo razon. Pero la razon no da fruto. Y estas son mis vestimentas chamuscadas por el fuego. Y estos son mis trebejos de vidente. Y este es mi rostro desfigurado. Un rostro que pudo ser hermoso y no lo supo. | Wisława Szymborska | ||
| 9242629 | O sofrimento (capitulo tres) nao insulta o corpo. A morte chega com o sono. E vais sonhar que nem e preciso respirar, que o silencio sem ar nao e uma musica ma, pequeno como uma fagulha, a um toque te apagaras. | Wisława Szymborska | ||
| 3076b18 | Flattery, in Tuppence's opinion, should always be laid on with a trowel where a man is concerned. | Agatha Christie | ||
| a3ca765 | Freckles are so earnest and Scottish. | Agatha Christie | ||
| 069b8b4 | No existe vida que, aun por un instante, no sea inmortal. La muerte siempre llega con ese instante de retraso. En vano golpea con la aldaba en la puerta invisible. Lo ya vivido no se lo puede llevar. | Wisława Szymborska | ||
| 53fb765 | En el tercer planeta del sol la conciencia limpia y tranquila es sintoma primordial de animalidad. | Wisława Szymborska | ||
| 0a8cece | Whatever inspiration is, it's born from a continuous 'I don't know.' --Wislawa Szymborska | Natasha Scripture | ||
| 7d6ac13 | Y helo aqui: en un estado indeporable, el escarabajo muerto en el sendero resplandece bajo el sol. El tiempo de una mirada basta para pensar en el: no le ha ocurrido nada importante, parece. Lo importante, dicen, es lo que nos atane a nosotros. La vida, pero solo nuestra, o la muerte, pero tambien solo nuestra, una muerte que asi goza de su obligada primacia. | Wisława Szymborska | ||
| fb3aa47 | Niceg darovanog, sve posudeno. Tonem u dugovima preko glave. Bit cu primorana sobom platiti za sebe, za zivot dati zivot. Tako je to vec udeseno, da je srce za vracanje i jetra za vracanje i svaki prst posebno. Prekasno je za raskid uvjeta ugovora. Dugovi ce biti svuceni s mene zajedno s kozom. Idem po svijetu u mnostvu ostalih duznika. Jedne opterecuje isplata krila. Drugi, htjeli ne htjeli, razduzit ce se od lisca. Na strani Duguje svaka .. | Wisława Szymborska | ||
| 0a027e8 | Life on Earth is quite a bargain. Dreams, for one, don't charge admission. Illusions are only costly when lost. The body has its own installment plan. --Wislawa Szymborska, "Here" | Marcela Serrano | ||
| aa12d05 | Mineli sie jak obcy, bez gestu i slowa, ona w drodze do sklepu, on do samochodu. Moze w poplochu albo roztargnieniu albo niepamietaniu, ze przez krotki czas kochali sie na zawsze. [...] | Wisława Szymborska | ||
| acc725a | Y si todo esto sucede en un laboratorio? ?Bajo solo una lampara de dia y miles de millones por la noche? | Wisława Szymborska | ||
| 289be84 | No he vivido mas que tu, sino solo lo bastante para pensar de lejos. | Wisława Szymborska | ||
| d6d5af8 | Asi, por obra del azar, soy y miro. Una mariposa blanca aletea en el aire con alas que solo a ella pertenecen, y una sombra sobrevuela mi mano, la suya, no otra, no de cualquiera. Ante hechos semejantes me abandona la certeza de que lo importante es mas importante que lo que no importa. | Wisława Szymborska | ||
| 9fdb296 | El cielo esta en todas partes, incluso en la oscuridad bajo la piel. Me alimento de cielo, evacuo cielo. Soy una trampa en la trampa, un habitante habitado, un brazo abrazado, una pregunta en respuesta a una pregunta. | Wisława Szymborska | ||
| 6f16852 | Un milagro tan adicional como adicional es todo: lo impensable se puede pensar. | Wisława Szymborska | ||
| 8373776 | The Three Oddest Words When I pronounce the word Future, the first syllable already belongs to the past. When I pronounce the word Silence, I destroy it. When I pronounce the word Nothing, I make something no nonbeing can hold. | Wisława Szymborska | ||
| 4cab9e2 | Kucam na vrata kamena. -To sam ja, pusti me. Hocu da udem u tvoju unutrasnjost, da pogledam uokolo, da te upijem kao dah. -Odlazi! - kaze kamen - Cvrsto sam zatvoren. Cak razbijeni na komade bicemo cvrsto zatvoreni. Cak smrvljeni u prah necemo nikoga pustiti. Kucam na vrata kamena. -To sam ja, pusti me. Dolazim iz ciste radoznalosti. Za nju je zivot jedina prilika. Zelim da prodem tvojim dvorcem zatim da posjetim list i kaplju vode. Malo vr.. | Wisława Szymborska | ||
| 597a4ed | E vero, taccio - ma taccio solo per timore che il mio canto in futuro mi dia dolore, che verra giorno e d'un tratto smentira le parole, resteranno ritmi e rime, se ne andra l'amore, | Wisława Szymborska | ||
| a1dbbe3 | Czemu ty sie, zla godzino, z niepotrzebnym mieszasz lekiem? Jestes - a wiec musisz minac. Miniesz - a wiec to jest piekne | poetry poezja polish time-passing upływ-czasu złe-czasy | Wisława Szymborska | |
| fb3b42b | We leven langer, maar minder nauwkeurig en in kortere zinnen. | modernity | Wisława Szymborska | |
| cdea899 | Las aves domesticas se distinguen de las de corral en que las guardamos en jaulas exclusivamente para satisfacer el placer estetico. El nuestro, claro. Del placer que sienten las aves condenadas a ver a sus duenos, no se nada. | Wisława Szymborska | ||
| 5cd3bf0 | STARI PROFESOR Upitala sam ga za stara dobra vremena, kada smo bili veoma mladi, naivni, ushiceni, glupi, nespremni. Malo je ostalo od toga, s izuzetkom mladosti - Odgovorio je. Pitala sam ga da li i dalje pouzdano zna, Sta je za covecanstvo dobro a sta lose. To je najsmrtonosnija moguca iluzija - Odgovorio je. Pitala sam ga za buducnost, da li je jos vidi jasno. Procitao sam previse istorijskih knjiga - Odgovorio je. Pitala sam ga za fotog.. | Wisława Szymborska | ||
| 1abf3d8 | Musi byc do wyboru, Zmieniac sie, zeby tylko nic sie nie zmienilo. To latwe, niemozliwe, trudne, warte proby. Oczy ma, jesli trzeba, raz modre, raz szare, Czarne, wesole, bez powodu pelne lez Spi z nim jak pierwsza z brzegu, jedyna na swiecie. Urodzi mu czworo dzieci, zadnych dzieci, jedno. Naiwna, ale najlepiej doradzi. Slaba, ale udzwignie. Nie ma glowy na karku, to bedzie ja miala. Czyta Jaspersa i pisma kobiece. Nie wie po co ta srubka .. | Wisława Szymborska | ||
| 8674f61 | Poetry Reading To be a boxer, or not to be there at all. O Muse, where are our teeming crowds? Twelve people in the room, eight seats to spare-- it's time to start this cultural affair. Half came inside because it started raining, the rest are relatives. O Muse. The women here would love to rant and rave, but that's for boxing. Here they must behave. Dante's Inferno is ringside nowadays. Likewise his Paradise. O Muse. Oh, not to be a boxer .. | Wisława Szymborska | ||
| e499703 | De vreugde van het schrijven. | Wisława Szymborska | ||
| 08b2bc5 | within the four walls of avalanches, I call out to Yeti. Stomping my feet for warmth on the snow the snow eternal. | Wisława Szymborska | ||
| dfc0eee | E sognerai che non occorre affatto respirare che il silenzio senza respiro e una musica passabile, sei piccolo come una scintilla e ti spegni al ritmo di quella. | Wisława Szymborska | ||
| 6153744 | Now enter, single file, the hosts who died early on, in Acts 3 and 4, or between scenes. The miraculous return of all those lost without a trace. The thought that they've been waiting patiently offstage without taking off their makeup | tragedy | Wisława Szymborska | |
| f72ec37 | Quatro bilhoes de pessoas nesta terra, e minha imaginacao e como era. Nao se da bem com grandes numeros. | Wisława Szymborska | ||
| 9550833 | 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 a better poet, | Wisława Szymborska | ||
| ddaebed | The hour between night and day. The hour between toss and turn. The hour of thirty-year-olds. The hour swept clean for roosters' crowing. The hour when the earth takes back its warm embrace. The hour of cool drafts from extinguished stars. The hour of do-we-vanish-too-without-a-trace. Empty hour. Hollow. Vain. Rock bottom of all the other hours. No one feels fine at four a.m. If ants feel fine at four a.m., we're happy for the ants. And let.. | Wisława Szymborska | ||
| 7a1e69c | Psalm How leaky are the borders of man-made states! How many clouds float over them scot-free, how much desert sand sifts from country to country, how many mountain pebbles roll onto foreign turf in provocative leaps! Need I cite each and every bird as it flies, or alights, as now, on the lowered gate? Even if be a sparrow--its tail is abroad, Though its beak is still home. As if that weren't enough--it keeps fidgeting! Out of countle.. | Wisława Szymborska |