My theory has been that great beauty is borne of suffering. I've seen it among blacks in America. And now, I've found it in the words of Wislawa Szymborska, a 73 year old poet who lives in Cracow, and who just happened to win the 1996 Nobel Prize for Poetry. She writes with such stunning simplicity, directness and clarity, that only her words do her justice. The buzzard has nothing to fault himself with.
Scruples are alien to the black panther.
Piranhas do not doubt the rightness of their actions. The rattlesnake approves of himself without reservations. The self-critical jackal does not exist. The locust, alligator, trichina, horsefly live as they live and are glad of it. The killer-whale's heart weighs one hundred kilos but in other respects is light.