Best 26 quotes of Ingeborg Bachmann on MyQuotes

For the facts that make up the world need the non-factual as a vantage point from which to be perceived.

I don't take drugs, I take books.

If we had the right words, if we had the language, we would need no weapons.

I myself am a person who has never resigned myself, who is absolutely never resigned, who can’t imagine it at all. I simply observe, and I observe in so many people, and often very quickly, a resignation that terrifies me, that’s it.

Silent night, holy night, when the bough flies from the tree and is hung everywhere, when from tables the crusts fly, when the gifts begin to tremble because lovelessness walks through the world, because it snarls at you, barks at you from the snow, and the silver ribbons rip and the tinsel rustles silvery, and the silver and gold, and a golden word come to you on which you choke because you have been sold and betrayed, and because it does not suffice that for you one is redeemed who once died.

With the aid of a minute correction - that of the dispersing lens - in a gold frame perched on her nose, Miranda can see into hell.

Anlıyorsun değil mi, ateşli mektuplarım, ateşli çağrılarım, ateşli tutkularım, yanmış ellerimle kağıda döktüğüm bütün bir yangın -en çok korktuğum şey, bütün bunların bir parça yanmış kağıda dönüşebilme olasılığı. Dünyadaki tüm kağıtlar sonunda ya kömürleşmiştir ya da suda yumuşamıştır, çünkü ateşin üstüne hep suları püskürtür. Malina: Eskiler, aptal biri için, onun kalbi yoktur, derlerdi. Aklın ve zekanın bulunduğu yer diye kalbi göstermişlerdi. Kalbini her şeye açmak, tüm söylevlerini ve mektuplarını ateşe boğmak zorunda değilsin. Ama ne kadar çok insanın yalnızca kafası var ve kafasından çok hiçbir şeyi yok, bir bilsen! Ve onların kalpleri yok.

A single tear forms, just in the corner of one eye, but it doesn't roll down my cheek; it merely crystallizes in the cold air, it grows and grows into a second giant globe that doesn't want to orbit with the world—it breaks off from the planet and plunges into infinity.

As it was all was lost. He was alive, yes, he was alive, he felt this for the first time. But he knew now that he was living in a prison, that he had to make the best of it in there and would soon rage and would have to speak this thieves' cant, the only language at his disposal, in order not to be so abandoned.

Ausdruck ist Wahn

But Beatrix knew very well that there were no jobs, not even the most pitiful office routine - she wasn't even qualified for that - and that no one would allow her to sleep until late in the afternoon because these ill-advised people all around her let themselves be squeezed into schedules; that she would never work, least of all learn a trade, because she had no ambition whatsoever to earn a single shilling, become self-supporting and spend eight hours a day with people who smelled bad.

Das Beste ist, müde zu sein und am Abend hinzufallen. Das Beste ist, am Morgen, mit dem ersten Licht, hell zu werden, gegen den unverrückbaren Himmel zu stehen, der ungangbaren Wasser nicht zu achten und das Schiff über die Wellen zu heben, auf das immerwiederkehrende Sonnenufer zu.

Exil Ein Toter bin ich der wandelt gemeldet nirgends mehr unbekannt im Reich des Präfekten überzählig in den goldenen Städten und im grünenden Land abgetan lange schon und mit nichts bedacht nur mit Wind mit Zeit und mit Klang! Der ich unter Menschen nicht leben kann! Ich mit der deutschen Sprache dieser Wolke um mich die ich halte als Haus treibe durch alle Sprachen O wie sie sich verfinstert! die dunklen die Regentöne nur die wenigen fallen In hellere Zonen trägt dann sie den Toten hinauf

I'll worship animals in the night, I'll lay violent hands on the holiest icons, I'll clutch at all lies, I'll grow bestial in my dreams and will allow myself to be slaughtered like a beast.

Marcel ise şöyle öldü: Bir gün bütün berduşların Paris'in kent manzarasından silinmelerine karar verilmişti. Sosyal yardım örgütü, aynı zamanda kentin doğru dürüst bir görünümde olmasıyla da ilgilenen ve düşünülebilecek en resmi nitelikteki sosyal yardım örgütünün ilgilileri, polisle birlikte Rue Monge'a geldiler, tek istedikleri, yaşlı adamları yaşama geri döndürmek, dolayısıyla da yaşama hazır olsunlar diye önce yıkayıp paklamaktı. Marcel yerinden kalkıp onlarla birlikte gitti, çok sakin bir adamdı, birkaç kadeh şarap sonra bile hâlâ bilge ve uysal kalabilen bir insandı. Gelmelerini o gün büyük bir olasılıkla hiç umursamamıştı, belki de caddedeki iyi yerine, metronun sıcak havasının mazgallardan dışarı çıktığı yere geri dönebileceğini düşünüyordu. Ama kamunun esenliği için yapılmış olan, içinde çok sayıda duşun bulunduğu yıkanma salonunda sıra Marcel'e de geldi, onu duşun altına soktular ve duş hiç kuşkusuz ne fazla sıcak, ne de fazla soğuktu, ama Marcel yıllardan beri ilk kez çıplaktı ve ilk kez suyun altına girmişti. Daha kimse durumu kavrayıp yardımına koşamadan düştü ve hemen oracıkta öldü. Ne demek istediğimi anlıyor musun! Malina, biraz ne yapacağını şaşırmış gibi bakıyor, oysa ne yapacağını asla şaşırmaz. Bu öyküyü anlatmayabilirdim. Ama duşu bir defa daha hissediyorum, Marcel'in üstündeki neleri yıkamaya hakları yoktu, bunu biliyorum. Eğer bir insan kendi mutluluğun buharları arasında yaşıyorsa, eğer bir insanın "Allah sizden razı olsun"un dışında söyleyecek pek sözü yoksa, o zaman o insanı yıkamaya kalkışmamalı, o insan için iyi olanı o insanın üstünden yıkayıp akıtmamalı, birini olmayan bir yaşam için arındırmaya kalkışmamalı...

Miranda doesn't dream, she simply rests. When Miranda's eyes are at ease, her mind is at peace.

My father is beating Melanie, then, because a large dog begins to bark in warning, he beats this dog who competely submits to his thrashing. In the same way my mother and I also allowed ourselves to be thrashed. I know that the dog is my mother, absolute submission. I ask my father why he's beating Melanie as well, and he says he won't stand for such questions, she doesn't mean anything to him, it's shameless of me to even ask about her, he keeps repeating that Melanie doesn't mean anything to him, he only needs her for a few more weeks, for a little refreshment, I have to understand that.

My favorite, how did you put it now? Landscapes, animals, plants? Favorite what? Books, music, architecture, painting? I don't have any favorite animals, no favorite mosquitoes, favorite beetles, favorite worms, even with the best will in the world I cannot tell you which birds or fish or predators I prefer, it would also be difficult for me to have to choose much more generally.

No new world without a new language.

The children are in love but do not know with what. They talk in gibberish, muse themselves into an indefinable pallor, and when they are completely at a loss they invent a language that maddens them. My fish. My hook. My fox. My snare. My fire. You my water. You my current. My earth. You my if. And you my but. Either. Or. My everything...my everything...They push one another, go for each other with their fists and scuffle over a counter-word that doesn't exist.

The facts that make the world real-- these depend on the unreal in order to be recognised by it.

There are people who think that Malina and I are married. We never considered that we might be married, that such a possibility could exist, nor even the idea that other people might think that we were married. For the longest time it never crossed our minds that, like other people, we appear as man and wife wherever we go. This was a complete surprise for us, but we had no idea what to make of it. We laughed a lot.

There was only one hope she didn't and wouldn't allow herself to hold on to: that if, in almost thirty years, she hadn't found a man, not a single one, who was exclusively significant for her, who had become inevitable to her, someone who was strong and brought her the mystery she had been waiting for, not a single one who was really a man and not an eccentric, a weakling or one of the needy the world was full of - then the man simply didn't exist, and as long as this New Man did not exist, one could only be friendly and kind to one another, for a while. There was nothing more to make of it, and it would be best if women and men kept their distance and had nothing to do with each other until both had found their way out of the tangle and confusion, the discrepancy inherent in all relationships.

...the simple task of getting dressed and undressed was a real strain, but nothing could compare with her addiction to deep sleep...

The woman was finally done, and Beatrix reached for a magazine. There were always German magazines lying around here, Vogue was extremely rare; who wanted to read German magazines, anyway? Twin Murders in Stuttgart. Certainly an awful place, it even sounded like murder. Sex in Germany. That was probably even worse.

...we take care not to touch each other in public, nor do we look into each other's eyes except furtively, because Ivan must first wash my eyes with his own, removing the images which landed on my retina before his arrival.