Dejan Stojanovic Quotes - Page 4

The purpose of life is life.

To keep the air fresh among words is the secret of verbal cleanliness.

Those who would like to become writers attend courses on writing poetry and prose and analyze their own work and that of other writers in development. Teachers teach them that talent is not required and that anyone, who wants to be a writer, can do it if they only master the technique of writing and master the formulas of the genre that they choose. With a little brain storming ideas written on cards, as well as designs and plans on the table, one can even write a novel in a month. There is no secret; the whole secret is in the technique, a little research, and the rest is solved by form, according to a formula, in which it is all nicely wrapped up and packaged. And so, a bestseller is born.

We measure everything by ourselves with almost a necessary conceit.

Disease often comes with a smiling face.

To sense the peace of extinguished passionHappiness in not knowing the ultimate knowledge

And this that you call solitude is in fact a big crowd.

When he is most powerful, nothing does he become.

My feelings are too loud for words and too shy for the world.

A word is not filling in the gaps, but the fertilization of silence.

It is easy to see the glow but hard to recognize the awakening of silence.

Truth is hard-hearted and unrelenting, too clear, precise; a lie is much more imaginative.

There are anonymous poems and poets without poems.

Possible impossibility emerges From an impossible possibility, Or possibly, impossible possibility Blooms from the impossibly possible impossibility.

Christ did not ask or want to be what he was not.

Forget decorated generals, tell me about Private Ryan.

What does infinity mean to you? Are you not infinity and yourself?

Before the first before and after the last after, there is night waiting.

You ask how it is possible to be your own father and son. You should seek answers, although it is better to anticipate some, to be the light and dream.

I can see myself before myself—A being through dark scenery.

When there is noise and crowds, there is trouble; When everything is silent and perfect, There is just perfection and nothing To fill the air.

A poem does not radiate from the name, but the name emanates from the poem.

Neither alive nor dead; No one lets up, No one wins.

How alive is thought, invisible, yet without thought there is no sight.

Real geniuses would like that what we think of ourselves is true.

I visited many places, Some of them quite Exotic and far away, But I always returned to myself.

To transform a grimace into a sound sounds impossible, yet it is possible to transform a vision into music, to go outside an enslaved personality, to become impersonal by transforming into sand, into water, into light.

There can be no forced inspiration.

Two forces create eternity – a fairy tale and a dream from the fairy tale.

In a myriad of ways you tell one truth.

After Homer and Dante, is a whole century of creating worth one Shakespeare?

You don’t know anything, but I know even less.

To go where no one else has ever gone before is the secret of heroism.

Many writers were better before they became famous.

They blossomed, they did not talk about blossoming.

Serious affairs and history are carefully laid snares for the uninformed.

Names sound nice because no one peeks behind the cover to see the sad face of a poem crying for meaning, while the name of the creator proudly smiles from the title.

Digressions are part of harmony, deviations too.

There is always the question why And there is always life, Which doesn't need an answer.

An unrewarded value is more valuable than a reward with no value.

It is vain futility to analyze the algebra of time.

It is futile to spend time telling stories about the fleetness of each day.

Teaching others, he corrected himself.

God is busy and has no time for you.

Life is only a flicker of melted ice.

Unjustified ambition kills value,Kills someone else's desire to fly, Cuts their wings, sucks their air.If there is nothing else, it eats its own life.

Names do not write poems nor do they create work.

Sound unbound by nature becomes bounded by art.

Every man needs his Siren To check his courage and strength When he hears her song In his travels through the unknown.

Total knowledge is annihilation Of the desire to see, to touch, to feel The world sensed only through senses And immune to the knowledge without feeling.

Will the day tell its secret Before it disappears, Becomes timeless night.

Pretense cannot sustain blind power.

Although personal calling I sense,Who am I? even if I am, I don't know.

If emptiness is empty, how can something be borne or awaken from it?

Nothing reminds us of an awakening more than rain.

The name does not deserve the poem, but the poem deserves the name.

Dreams are our only geography—our native land.

Those who hate rain hate life.

The most complicated skill is to be simple.

When everything hurries everywhere, nothing goes anywhere.