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A billion stars go spinning through the night, / glittering above your head, / But in you is the presence that will be / when all the stars are dead.
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
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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
Head
Stars
Night
Glittering
Spinning
Billion
Billions
Presence
Dead
More quotes by Rainer Maria Rilke
And do not change. Do not divert your love from visible things. But go on loving what is good, simple and ordinary animals and things and flowers, and keep the balance true.
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I am like a child who awakes At the light, so safe and secureFree from night's fears when dawn breaks, In Thee I am ever secure.
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Lord, it is time. The summer was very big. Lay thy shadow on the sundials, and on the meadows let the winds go loose. Command the last fruits that they shall be full give them another two more southerly days, press them on to fulfillment and drive the last sweetiness into the heavenly wine.
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Love consists of this: two solitudes that meet, protect and great each other.
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Keep growing quietly and seriously throughout your whole development you cannot disturb it more rudely than by looking outward and expecting from outside replies to questions that only your inmost feeling in your most hushed hour can perhaps answer.
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Resolve to be always beginning-to be a beginner!
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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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...a carefree letting go of oneself, not a caution, but a wise blindness.
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The thought of being a creator, of engendering, of shaping is nothing without the continuous great confirmation and embodiment in the world, nothing without the thousandfold assent from Things and animals... beautiful and rich only because it is full of inherited memories of the engendering and birthing of millions.
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Sometime we will have to stop overevaluating the word. We shall learn to realize that it is only one of the many bridges that connect the island of our soul with the great continent of common life. . . the broadest, perhaps, but in no way the most refined.
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The creator must be a world for himself and must find everything in himself and in Nature, to whom his whole life is devoted.
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Where I create, there I am true.
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He was a worker whose only desire was to penetrate with all his forces into the humble and difficult significance of his tools. Therein lay a certain renunciation of Life, but in just this renunciation lay his triumph, for Life entered into his work.
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Is not impermanence the very fragrance of our days?
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I live not in dreams but in contemplation of a reality that is perhaps the future.
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Und dasTotsein ist mu« hsam und voller Nachholn, dass man allm a« hlich ein wenig Ewigkeit spu« rt. And being dead is hard work and full of retrieval before one can gradually feel a trace of eternity.
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We are the bees of the invisible. We madly gather the honey of the visible to store it in the great golden hive of the invisible.
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There are moments in which a rose is more important than a piece of bread
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Fate loves to invent patterns and designs. Its difficulty lies in complexity. But life itself is difficult because of its simplicity. It has only a few things of a grandeur not fit for us.
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Dig deep into your heart, where the answer spreads its roots in your being, and ask yourself solemnly, Must I write?
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