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Wislawa Szymborska Biography

Wislawa Szymborska

Maria Wisława Anna Szymborska [vʲiˈswava ʂɨmˈbɔrska] (2 July 1923 – 1 February 2012) was a Polish poet, essayist, translator and recipient of the 1996 Nobel Prize in Literature. Born in Prowent, which has since become part of Kórnik, she later resided in Kraków until the end of her life. In Poland, Szymborska's books have reached sales rivaling prominent prose authors: although she once remarked in a poem, "Some Like Poetry" ("Niektórzy lubią poezję"), that no more than two out of a thousand people care for the art.

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Wislawa Szymborska Quotes

No one in my family has ever died of love. What happened, happened, but nothing myth-inspiring.

Died, Family, Happened, My Family, Myth, Nothing

Nothing can ever happen twice. In consequence, the sorry fact is that we arrive here improvised and leave without the chance to practice.

Chance, Improvised, Practice, Sorry, Workout

Poets yearn, of course, to be published, read, and understood, but they do little, if anything, to set themselves above the common herd and the daily grind.

Common, Grind, Littles, Poets, Published, Read

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.

Embryo, Garden, Round, Running, Thousand, War

Their faith will make it easier for them to live and die.

Die, Dies, Easier, Faith, Live, Make

They say the first sentence in any speech is always the hardest. Well, that one's behind me, anyway.

Firsts, Hardest, Sentence, Speech

I don't know the role I'm playing. I only know it's mine, non-convertible.

Know, Knows, Mines, Playing, Role, Roles

I have sympathy for young people, for their growing pains, but I balk when these growing pains are pushed into the foreground, when you make these young people the only vehicles of lifes wisdom.

Make, Pain, Pushed, Sympathy, Vehicles, Wisdom

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.

Angel, Hands, Slide, Swarming, Under, Waiting

In every tragedy, an element of comedy is preserved. Comedy is just tragedy reversed.

Comedy, Element, Elements, Preserved, Tragedy

And whatever I do will become forever what I've done.

Become, Done, Forever

Each of us has a very rich nature and can look at things objectively, from a distance, and at the same time can have something more personal to say about them. I am trying to look at the world, and at myself, from many different points of view. I think many poets have this duality.

Distance, Duality, Same, Thinking, View, Views

Secret codes resound. Doubts and intentions come to light.

Come, Doubt, Light, Resound, Secret

At the very beginning of my creative life I loved humanity. I wanted to do something good for mankind. Soon I understood that it isn't possible to save mankind.

Creative, Good, Humanity, Loved, Mankind, Possible

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.

Color, Eye, Eyes, Past, Steps

I'm one-time-only to the marrow of my bones.

Bones, Marrow, One Time

Get to know other worlds, if only for comparison.

Comparison, Ifs, Know, Knows, Other Worlds, Worlds

Sometimes I write quickly, sometimes I spend several weeks on a single poem. I would really love for readers not to be able to guess which of the poems took so much work!

Able, Poems, Sometimes, Spend, Work, Writing

You can find the entire cosmos lurking in its least remarkable objects.

Cosmos, Entire, Lurking, Objects, Remarkable

Carry on, then, if only for the moment that it takes a tiny galaxy to blink!

Blink, Galaxy, Moments, Takes, Tiny

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