If no one else, the dying must notice how unreal, how full of pretense, is all that we accomplish here, where nothing is allowed to be itself.
Rainer Maria RilkeDig deep into your heart, where the answer spreads its roots in your being, and ask yourself solemnly, Must I write?
Rainer Maria RilkeMy eyes already touch the sunny hill. Going far ahead of the road I have begun. So we are grasped by what we cannot grasp; it has inner light, even from a distance- and charges us, even if we do not reach it, into something else, which, hardly sensing it, we already are; a gesture waves us on answering our own wave... but what we feel is the wind in our faces.
Rainer Maria RilkeI want to unfold. Let no place in me hold itself closed, for where I am closed, I am false.
Rainer Maria Rilke