Alejandra Pizarnik Quotes & Sayings

Everything makes love with silence.
They promised me a silence
like fire, a house of silence.
Suddenly the temple is a circus
the light a drum. — Alejandra Pizarnik

Every word I write restores me to the absence of why I write what I wouldn't write if I allowed you to come here. — Alejandra Pizarnik

Like a poem that's aware
of the silence of things
you speak so as not to see me — Alejandra Pizarnik

But, who is Death? A figure that harrows and wastes wherever and however it pleases. This is also a possible description of the Countess Bathory. Never did anyone wish so hard not to grow old; I mean, to die. That is why, perhaps, she acted and played the role of Death. Because, how can Death possibly die? — Alejandra Pizarnik

Because no one has more thirst for earth, for blood, and for ferocious sexuality than the creatures who inhabit cold mirrors — Alejandra Pizarnik

Mouth sewn shut. Eyelids sewn shut. I forgot myself. The wind inside. Everything shut, and the wind inside. — Alejandra Pizarnik

I stored up the purest words
for making new silences — Alejandra Pizarnik

Turning the pages of crime novels it occurs to me to ask how it's possible to write so much without saying the word "pain," "life," or "anxiety." I reject this stupid dehumanization. The behaving without motive. The horrific shutting out of what is most vital or important. — Alejandra Pizarnik

You write poems
because you need
a place
where what isn't may be — Alejandra Pizarnik

You've built your homeyou've fledged your birdsyou've beaten the windwith your bonesyou've finished alonewhat no one began — Alejandra Pizarnik

My words demand the silence of a wasteland. — Alejandra Pizarnik

I don't know about birds
nor do I know the history of fire.
But I believe that my solitude should have wings — Alejandra Pizarnik

And it's always the lilac garden on the other side of the river. If the soul should ask you if that is far from here, you should say, On the other side of the river, not this one, but the one over there. — Alejandra Pizarnik

An unchangeable colour rules over the melancholic: his dwelling is a space the colour of mourning. Nothing happens in it. No one intrudes. It is a bare stage where the inert I is assisted by the I suffering from that inertia. The latter wishes to free the former, but all efforts fail, as Theseus would have failed had he been not only himself but also the Minotaur; to kill him then, he would have had to kill himself — Alejandra Pizarnik

Your voice
in this being unable to move away
from my gaze
things dispossess me
make of me a ship on a river of stones
if your voice is not
rain alone in my feverish silence
you unbind my eyes
and please
may you never stop
speaking
ever — Alejandra Pizarnik

to write is to give meaning to suffering — Alejandra Pizarnik

Behold space trembling like a great madman. — Alejandra Pizarnik

She undresses in the paradise
of her memory
she is unaware of the fierce fate
of her visions
she fears not knowing how to name
what does not exist — Alejandra Pizarnik

what if that which ought to be doesn't exist — Alejandra Pizarnik

The night is the color of the eyelids of the dead. — Alejandra Pizarnik