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

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

I am a tarsier and a tarsier's son, the grandson and great-grandson of tarsiers, a tiny creature, made up of two pupils and whatever simply could not be left out.

Every beginning is only a sequel, after all, and the book of events is always open halfway through.

Well, one is inspired by the whole of life, one's own and somebody else's. You know how sometimes you hear great music, and music is completely untranslatable into words, into any words. A certain tension that is born when one listens to music could aid you in expressing something absolutely different.

Somewhere out there the world must have an end.

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