Irony is the glory of slaves. - Czesław Miłosz

A weak human mercy walks in the corridors of hospitals and is like a half-thawed winter.

When it hurts we return to the banks of certain rivers. — Czeslaw Milosz, from “I Sleep A Lot,” The Collected Poems 1931 — 1987. (The Ecco Press; First Edition edition 1988)

Not soon, as late as the approach of my ninetieth year, I felt a door opening in me and I entered the clarity of early morning.

One after another my former lives were departing, like ships, together with their sorrow.

And the countries, cities, gardens, the bays of seas assigned to my brush came closer, ready now to be described better than they were before.