Quotes from Rainer Maria Rilke

Para el verdadero creador no hay pobreza ni lugares comunes. Y aunque se encontrase encerrado en una prisión cuyos muros impidieran que el fragor del mundo alcanzase su entendimiento, ¿no podría recurrir siempre a su infancia, ese reino delicioso, esa cámara del tesoro que alberga tantos recuerdos?

Nothing which is, is static.

DeÄŸiÅŸmekte olduÄŸumu ne diye birine söyleyeyim ki? DeÄŸiÅŸirken, eski ben olarak kalm?yorum ve ÅŸimdiye kadarkinden biraz daha baÅŸkay?m, dolay?s?yla tan???m kimse olmad??? ortada. Ve yabanc?lara, beni tan?mayan insanlara mümkün deÄŸil yazamam.

She was brought up in the reformed Protestant Church but left it at the age of seventeen in protest against its restrictive rules.

Ich habe Hymnen, die ich schweige.

Mädchen, Dichter sind, die von euch lernen das zu sagen, was ihr einsam seid; und sie lernen leben an euch Fernen, wie die Abende an großen Sternen sich gewöhnen an die Ewigkeit.

You will experience the immense pleasure of reading this book for the first time, and will pass through its innumerable surprises as if in a new dream.

As one puts a handkerchief before pent-in-breath- no: as one presses it against a wound out of which the whole of life, in a single gush, wants to stream, I held you to me: I saw you turn red from me. How could anyone express what took place between us? We made up for everything there was never time for. I matured strangely in every impulse of unperformed youth, and you, love, had wildest childhood over my heart…

Con frecuencia es el nombre de un crimen lo que hace naufragar una vida, y no la acción individual y sin nombre, que quizá no era más que una determinada necesidad de esa vida, la cual podía aceptar aquella acción con inocencia y sin esfuerzo.

you would cry out as purely as a bird when the quickly ascending season lifts him up, nearly forgetting that he is a suffering creature and not just a single heart being flung into brightness, into the intimate skies.

if he demolished pillars, it was when he burst from the world of your body into the narrower world.

Kad?n?n teslimiyeti, hudutsuz olmak gayesini güder : onun saadetidir bu. Ama kad?n?n aÅŸk?ndaki sonsuz ?st?rap hep ÅŸu olmuÅŸtur : kendisinden bu teslimiyeti azaltmas? istenir.

Und wir: Zuschauer, immer, überall, dem allen zugewandt und nie hinaus! Uns überfüllts. Wir ordnens. Es zerfällt. Wir ordnens wieder und zerfallen selbst.

Mümkün müdür tüm gerçeklikler onlar için bir anlam ifade etmesin; mümkün müdür hayatlar? boÅŸ odalardaki saatler gibi hiçbirÅŸeye baÄŸlanmadan geçsin?

Love between one person and another: that is perhaps the hardest thing it is laid on us to do, the utmost, the ultimate trial and test, the work for which all other work is just preparation.

it is good to be solitary, for solitude is difficult; the fact that a thing is difficult must be one more reason for our doing it.

This alone is needed: solitude, vast inner solitude. To go into yourself and meet no one for hours,—you must be able to achieve this. Be alone, as you were alone as a child, while the adults went about their business, caught up in matters that seemed important and grand because the grown-ups looked so busy and because you comprehended nothing of what they did.

que una cosa sigui difícil ha de ser per a nosaltres un motiu més per fer-la. estimar també és bo: perquè l'amor és difícil. Estimar de persona a persona: això és potser el més difícil que se'ns ha encomanat, el més extrem, l'última prova, el treball per al qual tot altre treball és només una preparació.

Nothing touches a work of art so little as words of criticism; they always result in more or less fortunate misunderstandings.

Society in its wisdom has found ways of constructing refuges of all kinds

You are so young, so before all beginning, and I want to beg you, as much as I can, dear sir, to be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves like locked rooms and like books that are written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now.

He began to write a new type of short lyric, which he sometimes called a "Kunst-Ding": a poem in which the obtrusive interferences of an authorial self and all subjective, accidental occasions have been replaced by an inwardly tensile, self-contained sculptural presence, delimited by strong contours but filled with an utmost of interacting visual and visible reality.

Works of art are of an infinite solitude, and no means of approach is so useless as criticism.

The sunken are always seeking the earth again.