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But your solitude will be a support and a home for you, even in the midst of very unfamiliar circumstances, and from it you will find all your paths.

Rainer Maria Rilke

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Rainer Maria Rilke
Age: 51 †
Born: 1875
Born: December 4
Died: 1926
Died: December 29
Author
Novelist
Playwright
Poet
Translator
Writer
Praha
René Karl Wilhelm Johann Josef Maria Rilke
René Maria Cäsar Rilke
Rainer Karl Wilhelm Johann Josef Maria Rilke
Li-erh-kʻo
Rainer Maria Rielke
René Rilke
Rainer Mariyah Rilḳeh
Rainŏ Maria Rilkʻe
Reiner Marie Rilke
Rene Karl Wilhelm Johann Josef Maria Rilke
Rene Rilke
Circumstances
Path
Support
Home
Find
Unfamiliar
Even
Paths
Midst
Solitude

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Be ahead of all farewells as if they were behind you, like the winter that is just departing.
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What keeps you from... living your life as a painful and lovely day in the history of a great pregnancy?
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Everything is blooming most recklessly if it were voices instead of colors, there would be an unbelievable shrieking into the heart of the night.
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You darkness, that I come from, I love you more than all the fires that fence in the world.
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It is part of the nature of every definitive love that sooner or later it can reach the beloved only in infinity.
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No experience has been too unimportant, and the smallest event unfolds like a fate, and fate itself is like a wonderful, wide fabric in which every thread is guided by an infinitely tender hand and laid alongside another thread and is held and supported by a hundred others
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Take your well-disciplined strengths, stretch them between the two great opposing poles, because inside human beings is where God learns.
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Perhaps the same bird echoed through both of us yesterday, seperate, in the evening.
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Spring has returned. The Earth is like a child that knows poems.
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If, when you wake up in the morning, you can think of nothing but writing . . . then you are a writer.
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It is a tremendous act of violence to begin anything. I am not able to begin. I simply skip what should be the beginning.
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One had to take some action against fear when once it laid hold of one.
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Isn't it time that these most ancient sorrows of ours grew fruitful? Time that we tenderly loosed ourselves from the loved one, and, unsteadily, survived: the way the arrow, suddenly all vector, survives the string to be more than itself. For abiding is nowhere.
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Every intensification is good, if it is in your entire blood, if it isn't intoxication or muddiness, but joy which you can see into, clear to the bottom.
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Think... of the world you carry within you.
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Why should you want to give up a child's wise not-understanding in exchange for defensiveness and scorn, since not-understanding is, after all, a way of being alone, whereas defensiveness and scorn are a participation in precisely what, by these means, you want to separate yourself from.
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Verses are not, as people think, feelings (those one has early enough) -- they are experiences. For the sake of a verse one must see many cities, men, and things, one must know the animals feel how birds fly, and know the gesture with which the little flowers open in the morning.
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