Quotes by : Paul Celan

Reachable, near and not lost, there remained in the midst of the losses this one thing: language. It,....

With wine and being lost, withless and less of both:I rode through the snow, do you read meI rode God....

rush of pine scent (once upon a time),the unlicensed convictionthere ought to be another wayof sayingthis.....

Only one thing remained reachable, close and secure amid all losses: language. Yes, language. In spite....

How you die out in me:down to the lastworn-out knot of breathyou're there, with a splinter of life.

Poetry is a sort of homecoming.

They are the efforts of someone who, overarced by stars that are human handiwork, and who, shelterless....

Don't sign your namebetween worlds,surmountthe manifold of meanings,trust the tearstain,learn to live.....

Each arrow you shoot offcarries its own targetinto the decidedlysecrettangle

A poem, as a manifestation of language and thus essentially dialogue, can be a message in a bottle, sent....

Speak you too,speak as the last,say out your say.Speak-But don’t split off No from Yes.Give your say....