Quotes by Kovács Ákos

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I don't want to conquer you anymore, you're an image I saw in a dream, and I'm not looking for you when I'm awake, and I won't be looking for you if I can. I don't want you and I don't want to touch your body with greedy grasping and groping. It's a mistake that I fell in love with you, I don't want to get you, I don't want to own you, no, no, nothing. Deadly indifference. The silence is like a scream. You wanted it that way, we want it that way. I will be healed. I'll write you out. From myself. Just don't look at me.

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Most of humanity needs to have something to eat every day. If one of the tabloids is no longer enough, you can get your daily dose of lies and fear through intellectual channels. Nothing can be expected from some people today, because there is no common intellectual minimum. Communities have ceased to exist, a common language has ceased to exist, because we have lost our connection with the sacred basis of existence. The spiritual roots have been pulled out from under us, we look at them innocently as those who can't do anything about it. The only way to defend yourself against a situation burdened with deficiencies is to choose the latter between reality and truth. With this, he laughs at the appearance that is paraded as reality.

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Writing is bloody-sweet agony. I write only one song my whole life.

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The birth of songs and poems is an indescribable moment. One thing can speak honestly and authentically about the moment of inspiration: the birthing song. Poems and lyrics are cousins ​​to each other, but poems have a greater degree of freedom, for example they don't have to conform to musical structures.

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Tonight I sleep or stay awake with your memory, because it has happened a few times already, I wish for the dawn with stubborn pain, please forgive me, I miss you very much.

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I stand by you, as I don't stand by anyone else, and I want to love you so much, you don't even know, I don't know, I feel it, I feel it. Now you pretend, but then you won't, and I won't look at you, I'll be indifferent, from now on I want to be and I don't want to touch your mouth like I used to, like yesterday. Like a minute ago.

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It touches me that you are here and I pretend that you are someone else and that I am not me, but that other person who is not here, who is not interested in you. I don't want to caress your head anymore, comfortingly and hotly and ridiculously and banally. I don't want to look into your eyes until I'm in tears, I don't want to kiss you and I don't want you to kiss me. But I also smile at you and I don't avoid you, we mingle, we talk stupidly about nothing. I will be ordinary with you. We're not a holiday anymore, it's a shame we weren't there for a single minute.

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I have to learn to enjoy my solitude. Do, create, write, read: live. Be careful not to arrange yourself around shapes. It is necessary to make compromises, but not all of them are inevitable. I'm sailing on the sea of ​​the ruins of shattered dreams either way - either way: will I learn to be happy to be here?

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It's worth living according to what you believe, because sooner or later you will believe in the way you live.

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The only thing that is human: to love with love, without reason or hope, perhaps to pursue hopelessness.

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We must return to faith, starting with those who have no visceral aversion to the idea of ​​God. We need to gather people who want to build and build. A crowd must become a community, and this requires faith.

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Who is the poet? The one recognized by the Hungarian literary canon, the one about whom the literary magazines sing odes? In this case, I am obviously not a poet. I think the definition of the word is this: a person who writes poems. In that sense, I am a poet.

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Night falls. Words circulate under the fading sky, outside the city, inside the walls, and in my head. I'm cold like this, even though I'm warm, I'm still cold, I miss you. The weather is busy. I reach for the circling words, write down one or two, a day passes. Time is noisy and noisy. And it passes. And it depends. Then it stops.

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The way I think about the world appears in practically all my compositions.

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There is essentially no present Hungary, because nothing lives until it exists in his soul.

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I can only give one thing, myself: I am a singer who sings about his own life, thoughts and feelings.

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The celebs playing hacks on TV usually tweet that they don't want to live in a "traditional" way, they don't like "traditional" things. However, tradition is nothing more than thousands of years of condensed knowledge about what is human and what is salutary.

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You know the canteen pitfall: you have to eat a lot of pasta for that little jam.

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I spread maps in front of me, I count. I write poetry, play the guitar, beat. And time shakes and shakes and roars, rattles, and chimes again. His inaudible voice stretches the space, playing music for the soul. Another day has passed without you.

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If a person is not looking for himself, it will be easier for him to find his place in the world. Because you have to look for the Only Being. And if one strives towards that, sooner or later one will also be reassured in one's own place that the search is my way.

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It is invisible to the eye, but it can be perceived in hundreds and hundreds of forms. He is there even in the disappearing time.

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The job of art, if there is such a thing, is perhaps only to give hope, sometimes even when there is none.