Look, we don't love like flowers with only one season behind us; when we love, a sap older than memory rises in our arms. — Rainer Maria Rilke Copy Share Image
The artist's experience lies so unbelievably close to the sexual, to its pain and its pleasure, that the two phenomena are really just different… — Rainer Maria Rilke Copy Share Image
“Out of infinite longings rise finite deeds like weak fountains, falling back just in time and trembling. And yet, what otherwise remains silent, our… — Rainer Maria Rilke Copy Share Image
“I love the dark hours of my being. My mind deepens into them. There I can find, as in old letters, the days of… — Rainer Maria Rilke Copy Share Image
“A complete sharing between two people is an impossibility and whenever it seems, nevertheless, to exist, it is a narrowing, a mutual agreement which… — Rainer Maria Rilke Copy Share Image
“But this is what ... people are so often and disastrously wrong in doing: they (who by their very nature are impatient) fling themselves… — Rainer Maria Rilke Copy Share Image
“If there is nothing you can share with other people, try to be close to Things. Things will not abandon you. The nights are… — Rainer Maria Rilke Copy Share Image
“The point of marriage is not to create a quick commonality by tearing down all boundaries; on the contrary, a good marriage is one… — Rainer Maria Rilke Copy Share Image
You life will find its own paths... and that they be good, rich, and wide is what I wish for you, more than I… — Rainer Maria Rilke Copy Share Image
I do not want to be folded for where I am folded, there I am a lie. — Rainer Maria Rilke Copy Share Image
At no other time (than autumn) does the earth let itself be inhaled in one smell, the ripe earth; in a smell that is… — Rainer Maria Rilke Copy Share Image
“That is why the sadness passes: the new presence inside us, the presence that has been added, has entered our heart, has gone into… — Rainer Maria Rilke Copy Share Image
“Have patience with everything that remains unsolved in your heart. Try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms, like books written in a… — Rainer Maria Rilke Copy Share Image
