Whatever inspiration is, it's born from a continuous "I don't know.

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

Poetic talent doesn't operate in a vacuum. There is a spirit of Polish poetry.

Poorly prepared for the dignity of life, I barely keep up with the pace of the action imposed. Reality demands.

It's a well-known fact: in order to follow doctor's orders, you have to be healthy as a horse.

All the best have something in common, a regard for reality, an agreement to its primacy over the imagination.

Is a decision made in advance really any kind of choice?