Often I Had To Imagine

Can It Be That Action Is Active Resignation? Something Is Trying To Develop; It Moves Ever So Slightly, And There Comes Your Man Of Action And Bashes In The Hothouse Windows.

What Can You Say About A Guy Who Lets Himself Be Saddled With A Baby When He's Thirty-five And Losing His Hair? Love? Forget About That Till You're Past Seventy, And By Then The Parts Will Have Stopped Working Anyway.

Where Man Had Been, In Every Place He Left, Garbage Remained. Even In His Pursuit Of The Ultimate Truth And Quest For His God, He Produced Garbage. By His Garbage, Which Lay Stratum Upon Stratum, He Could Always - One Had Only To Dig - Be Known. For More Long-lived Than Man Is His Refuse. Garbage Alone Lives After Him.

What Does A River Like The Vistula Carry Away With It? Everything That Goes To Pieces: Wood, Glass, Pencils, Pacts ... Chairs, Bones, And Sunsets Too. What Had Long Been Forgotten Rose To Memory, Floating On Its Back Or Stomach, With The Help Of The Vistula.

Everything Bigger Than Life Attracts A Crowd.