Rilke Quotes

Quotes tagged as "rilke" Showing 1-30 of 59
Maggie Stiefvater
“Afterward, Isabel drove me home and I shut myself in the study with Rilke, and I read and I wanted.

And leaving you (there arent words to untangle it)
Your life, fearful and immense and blossoming,
So that, sometimes frustrated, and sometimes
Your life is sometimes a stone in you, and then, a star

I was beginning to undertand poetry.”
Maggie Stiefvater, Shiver

Gaston Bachelard
“Rilke wrote: 'These trees are magnificent, but even more magnificent is the sublime and moving space between them, as though with their growth it too increased.”
Gaston Bachelard, The Poetics of Space

Rainer Maria Rilke
“She who reconciles the ill-matched threads
Of her life, and weaves them gratefully
Into a single cloth –
It’s she who drives the loudmouths from the hall
And clears it for a different celebration.”
Rainer Maria Rilke

Maggie Stiefvater
“And leaving you (there aren't words to untangle it)
Your life, fearful and immense and blossoming,
so that, sometimes frustrated, and sometimes understanding,
Your life is sometimes a stone in you, and then, a star.”
Maggie Stiefvater, Shiver

Maggie Stiefvater
“Again and Again, however, we know the language of love, and the little churchyard with its lamenting names and the staggeringly secret abyss in which others find their end: again and again the two of us go out under the ancient trees, make our bed again and again between the flowers, face to face with the skies”
Maggie Stiefvater, Shiver

Rainer Maria Rilke
“Whoever you are, go out into the evening,
leaving your room, of which you know every bit;
your house is the last before the infinite,
whoever you are.”
Rainer Maria Rilke

Rainer Maria Rilke
“Destiny itself is like a wonderful wide tapestry in which every thread is guided by an unspeakable tender hand, placed beside another thread and held and carried by a hundred others.”
Rainer Maria Rilke

Rainer Maria Rilke
“You, God, who live next door--

If at times, through the long night, I trouble you
with my urgent knocking--
this is why: I hear you breathe so seldom.
I know you're all alone in that room.
If you should be thirsty, there's no one
to get you a glass of water.
I wait listening, always. Just give me a sign!
I'm right here...

Sen komşu tanrı,
Uzun geceler bazen,
Kapına vura vura uyandırıyorsam seni
Solumanı seyrek duyduğumdandır...
Bilirim, yalnızsın odanda.
Sana birşey gerekse kimse yok,
Bir yudum su versin aradığında.
Hep dinlerim, yeter ki bir ses edin,
Öyle yakınım sana...”
Rainer Maria Rilke, Rilke's Book of Hours: Love Poems to God

راينر ماريا ريلكه
“ستوجد المرأة يوماً ما، في زمنٍ لا يعني فيه اسمها شيئاً عكس الذكورة وحسب، بل شيئاً خاصاً بنفسه، شيئاً يُفكَّر فيه ويوصَف بكلماتٍ لا تهدف إلى التحديد والشمول، بل إلى الحياة والوجود”
راينر ماريا ريلكه

Rainer Maria Rilke
“Loving isn't merging, surrendering, uniting with the other. Rather, it's a kind of solitude; of profound aloneness. It induces you to mature and become whole for the sake of your beloved ... to truly love another, you must first wholly love yourself. Love therefore exacts the most demanding claim of all; it both chooses you and pursues you, and reaches out, as if over vast distances, to call and draw you into your now and future self."
-- John VanDyke Wilmerding, ideas put forth inspired by ('after') Rainer Maria Rilke's 'Letters to a Young Poet”
Rainer Maria Rilke

Charlotte Eriksson
“People come and go all the time, it’s ripping me to pieces and I was in a state of simply not caring about anything or anyone other than the very thought of not giving a damn anymore. People always leave, I thought, and I did not want to be excited.”
Charlotte Eriksson, Everything Changed When I Forgave Myself: growing up is a wonderful thing to do

Rainer Maria Rilke
“If you think your world isn’t poetic enough, or exciting enough to tell a story about, that’s not because it’s a dull world, that’s because you’re not poet enough to wake its soul up.”
Rainer Maria Rilke

Rainer Maria Rilke
“How they are all about, these gentlemen
In chamberlains' apparel, stocked and laced,
Like night around their order's star and gem
And growing ever darker, stony-faced,
And these, their ladies, fragile, wan, but propped
High by their bodice, one hand loosely dropped,
Small like its collar, on the toy King-Charles:
How they surround each one of these who stopped
To read and contemplate the objects d'art,
Of which some pieces still are theirs, not ours.

Whit exquisite decorum they allow us
A life of whose dimensions we seem sure
And which they cannot grasp. They were alive
To bloom, that is be fair; we, to mature,
That is to be of darkness and to strive.”
Rainer Maria Rilke, The Best of Rilke: 72 Form-true Verse Translations with Facing Originals, Commentary and Compact Biography

William H. Gass
“...until summer becomes ein Zimmer in einem Traum -- a room in a dream.”
William H. Gass, Reading Rilke: Reflections on the Problems of Translation

Rainer Maria Rilke
“After Rilke's Letters
-- by John VanDyke Wilmerding II

this is my letter to a young person
poet you may be, but yet not know it
love is life’s great end, its final purpose
that for which all other tests prepare us
love is not to merge, nor to surrender
yet leads into solitude most tender
alone, into wholeness, one is called
before contemplating how one might wed
that your other might not lack your loving
owing to you finding yourself wanting
however far you are from who you are
that’s the distance you’ll travel for true love
be patient and wait on your completeness
only then can grow your full tenderness
be yourself, and you become another
enhancing your one beloved other

-- original poem written May 27, 2015,'after' Rainer Maria Rilke's 'Letters to a Young Poet”
Rainer Maria Rilke

Rainer Maria Rilke
“think: the hero prolongs himself, even his falling
was only a pretext for being, his latest rebirth.”
Rainer Maria Rilke

Rainer Maria Rilke
“Ninguém o pode aconselhar ou ajudar, — ninguém.
Não há senão um caminho. Procure entrar em si mesmo. Investigue o motivo que o manda escrever; examine se estende suas raízes pelos recantos mais profundos de sua alma; confesse a si mesmo: morreria, se lhe fosse vedado escrever? Isto acima de tudo: pergunte a si mesmo na hora mais tranqüila de sua noite: "Sou mesmo forçado a escrever?” Escave dentro de si uma resposta profunda. Se for afirmativa, se puder contestar àquela pergunta severa por um forte e simples "sou", então construa a sua vida de acordo com esta necessidade. Sua vida, até em sua hora mais indiferente e anódina, deverá tornar-se o sinal e o testemunho de tal pressão”
Rainer Maria Rilke, Cartas a Um Jovem Poeta

Rainer Maria Rilke
“Mit deinen Augen, welche müde kaum
von der verbrauchten Schwelle sich befrein,
hebst du ganz langsam einen schwarzen Baum
und stellst ihn vor den Himmel: schlank, allein.
Und hast die Welt gemacht. Und sie ist groß
und wie ein Wort, das noch im Schweigen reift.
Und wie dein Wille ihren Sinn begreift,
lassen sie deine Augen zärtlich los ...”
Rainer Maria Rilke, The Book of Images

Rainer Maria Rilke
“Liebe ist schwer. Liebhaben von Mensch zu Mensch: das ist vielleicht das Schwerste, was uns aufgegeben ist, das Äußerste, die letzte Probe und Prüfung.”
Rainer Maria Rilke

Rainer Maria Rilke
“...We of the here-and-now are not for a moment satisfied in the world of time, nor are we bound in it; we are continually overflowing toward those who preceded us, toward our origin, and toward those who seemingly come after us. In that vast "open" world, all beings *are*―one cannot say "contemporaneous," for the very fact that time has ceased determines that they all *are*."

―from letter to Witold Hulewicz (November 13, 1929)”
Rainer Maria Rilke,

Rainer Maria Rilke
“…Lovers were not, Marina, *are* not permitted to know
destruction so deeply. Must be as if they were new.
Only their grave is old, only *it* ponders and darkens
under the sobbing tree, remembering all that has been.
Only their grave collapses; *they* are supple as reeds;
what bends them too far, rounds them into rich garlands.
How they blow about in the May wind! From the midst of
the Ever,
in which you breathe and surmise, the moment has shut
them out.
(Oh how I understand you, female flower on the same
imperishable stalk. How wildly I scatter myself into the
night air
that in a moment will touch you.)…”

―from_Elegy: to Marina Tsvetayeva-Efron_”
Rainer Maria Rilke

Rainer Maria Rilke
“Do you remember…(doesn’t that appear in each of my letters?), do you remember that you spoke of how eagerly you experienced that period when for the first time autumn and winter were to meet you not in the city, but among the trees whose happiness you knew, whose spring and summer rang in your earliest memories and were mingled with everything warm and dear and tender and with the infinitely blissful melancholies of summer evenings and of long, yearning nights of spring. You knew just as much of them as of the dear people in your surroundings, among whom also summer and spring, kindness and happiness were dedicated to you and whose influence held sway above your growing up and maturing, and whose other experiences would touch you only by report and rarely like a shot in the wood of which superstitious folk tell for a long time. But now you were to remain out in the country house that was growing lonely and were to see the beloved trees suffer in the rising wind, and were to see how the dense park is torn apart before the windows and becomes spacious and everywhere, even in very deep places, discloses the sky which, with infinite weariness, lets itself rain and strikes with heavy drops on the aging leaves that are dying in touching humility. And you were to see suffering where until now was only rapture and anticipation, and were to learn to endure dying in the very place where the heart of life had beaten most loudly upon yours. And you were to behave like the grownups who all at once may know everything, yes, who become grown up just because of the fact that even the darkest and saddest things do not have to be hidden from them, that one does not cover up the dead when they enter, nor hide those whose faces are sawed and torn by a sharp pain.”

―from letter to Clara Westhoff Schmargendorf (Sunday, November 18, 1900)”
Rainer Maria Rilke

Rainer Maria Rilke
“…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…”
Rainer Maria Rilke

Rainer Maria Rilke
“Songs of longing!

And they will resound in my letters, just as they always have, sometimes loudly and sometimes secretly so that you alone can hear them… But they will also be different — different from how they used to be, these songs. For I have turned and found longing at my side, and I have looked into her eyes, and now she leads me with a steady hand.”

―from a letter to Lou Andreas-Salome”
Rainer Maria Rilke

Rainer Maria Rilke
“And you, Clara Westhoff, how simply and well you endured, lived through the experience, and made it a forward step in your young existence! So great was your love that it was able to forgive the great dying, and your eye was so sure, even then, that it conceived beauty in all the new colors, feelings, and gestures of the earth, and that all coming to an end seemed for your feeling only a pretext under which Nature wanted to unfold beauties yet unrevealed. Just as the eyes of angels rest on a dying child, delighting in the similar transfiguration of its half-released little face, so without concern you saw in the dying earth the smile and the beauty and the trust in eternity."

―from letter to Clara Westhoff Schmargendorf (Sunday, November 18, 1900)”
Rainer Maria Rilke,

Jean Cocteau
“Success had put me on the wrong track and I did not know that there is a kind of success worse than failure, and a kind of failure worth all the success in the world. Neither did I know that the distant friendship of Rainer Maria Rilke would one day console me for having seen his lamp burn without knowing that it was signalling me to go and singe my wings against its flame.”
Jean Cocteau

Ursula Hegi
“Their train speeds through the cities and crosses rivers until it reaches Paris. They leave the station, their arms around each other, and walk to the Jardin des Plantes where the panther paces the length of his cage. The young teacher nods as Hannelore Beier reaches into the cage, and strokes the animal's magnificent neck. The panther arches his back. A curtain lifts from his pupils as the pastor's sister slides aside the bolt that has kept him in captivity. His eyes like sudden, green flames, he recognizes a world beyond the bars of his cage.”
Ursula Hegi, Floating in My Mother's Palm

“Nessuno ha idea di cosa significhino quelle parole, e se fin da quando Gioia tre mesi fa è arrivata in questa scuola è stata subito additata come Quella-non-del-tutto-a-posto o Quella-con-un-sacco-di-problemi, è anche per quelle quattro parole che si riscrive, ogni mattina, sul braccio.
«Ma che roba è? Inglese o cosa?» le aveva chiesto il terzo giorno Giulia Batta, la compagna che nella classifica delle più belle della classe figurava esattamente al primo posto.
«O cosa», aveva risposto Gioia, senza neanche guardarla. Avrebbe voluto spiegarle che era in tedesco, quella scritta, e che erano parole quasi intraducibili ma significavano più o meno: “Quando la felicità è qualcosa che cade”, e forse anche dirle perché si scriveva addosso proprio quelle parole, ogni giorno: ma il modo in cui glielo aveva chiesto, gli sguardi di tutti lì intorno, be’, insomma, alla fine tutto quello che aveva risposto era stato: «O cosa». Che per inciso, per settimane intere, erano state anche le uniche parole che aveva scambiato coi suoi nuovi compagni. Il fatto è che certe cose le puoi dire solo a chi sai che le può capire. Che è anche il motivo per cui parliamo così poco, di quello che ci importa davvero.”
Enrico Galiano, Eppure cadiamo felici

Rainer Maria Rilke
“Pero en esto yerran los jóvenes tan a menudo y tan gravemente. Ellos, en cuya naturaleza está el no tener paciencia, se arrojan y se entregan, unos en brazos de otros, cuando les sobrecoge el amor. Se prodigan y desparraman tal como son, aun sin desbrozar, con todo su desorden y su confusión... Mas ¿qué ha de suceder luego? Qué ha de hacer la vida con ese montón de afanes truncos, que ellos llaman su convivir, su unión, y que, de ser posible, desearían poder llamar su felicidad, y aún más: ¡su porvenir! Ahí se pierde cada cual a sí mismo por amor al otro. Pierde igualmente al otro, y a muchos más que aun habían de llegar. Pierde también un sin fin de horizontes y de posibilidades, trocando el flujo y reflujo de posibilidades de sutil presentimiento por un estéril desconcierto, del cual ya nada puede brotar.”
Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet

Rainer Maria Rilke
“All who seek you
test you.
And those who find you
bind you to image and gesture.

I would rather sense you
as the earth senses you.
In my ripening
what you are.

I need from you no tricks
to prove you exist.
Time, I know,
is other than you.

No miracles, please.
Just let your laws
become clearer
from generation to generation.”
Rainer Maria Rilke, Rilke's Book of Hours: Love Poems to God
tags: rilke

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