Inger Christensen Quotes

doves exist, dreamers, and dolls; killers exist, and doves, and doves; haze, dioxin, and days; days exist, days and death; and poems exist; poems, days, death

Happiness is the change that comes over me when I describe the world It comes over the world Happiness is the change that comes over me when I'm afraid It comes over the world For instance I can be afraid of and for the world afraid because the world consists among other things of me so swiftly dying

There's something specific about the doves' way of living my life as a natural result of today since it's raining

abrikostræerne findes, abrikostræerne findes

Lo que se escribe es siempre otra cosa Y lo que se describe es de nuevo otra cosa Entre ambos está lo indescrito que tan pronto como es descrito abre nuevos territorios indescritos Es indescriptible Aunque la oscuridad esté definida por luz y la luz por oscuridad siempre queda un resto fuera.

When I was nine years old, the world, too, was nine years old. At least, there was no difference between us, no opposition, no distance. We just tumbled around from sunrise to sunset, earth and body as alike as two pennies. And there was never a harsh word between us, for the simple reason that there were no words at all between us; we never uttered a word to each other, the world and I. Our relationship was beyond language—and thus also beyond time. We were one big space (which was, of course, a very small space).

Et træ eksistereri en træskikkelse, og derfor kan også mit liv, eller hele min families liv antage denne skikkelse.

Le reste ondoie, s'effrange en silence, interroge dedans, dehors dans l'espace de la nuit, dan l'espace de l'âme : est-ce la mort ?

De repente echa a correr por su vida De repente tiene una palabra que es suficiente De repente da todo por sentado De repente sabe exactamente lo que quiere La verdad es un proceso que se quiere ocultar pero nadie puede ocultar un fragmentado proceso

في الساحة سرابٌ :بملامح تعِبةٍ يصيح جرائد الصباح.. جرائد الصباح

June nights exist, June nights exist the sky at long las as if lifted to heavenly heights, simultaneously sinking, as tenderly as when dreams can be seen before they are dreamed; a space as if dizzied, as if filled with whiteness, an hourless chiming of insects and dew

Give the dirt a little room.