I remember thinking back in 1996 when Wislawa Szymborska won the Noble Prize for Literature for this triumph of minimalism that she'd been typing at a rate of $41,666 per word.
The Institute declared she won "for poetry that with ironic precision allows the historical and biological context to come to light in fragments of human reality."
Prepare for goosebumps.
"The Three Oddest Words."
When I pronounce the word Future,
the first syllable already belongs to the past.
When I pronounce the word Silence,
I destroy it.
When I pronounce the word Nothing,
I make something no non-being can hold.