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Find out the reason that commands you to write; see whether it has spread its roots into the very depth of your heart; confess to yourself you would … - Rainer Maria Rilke
" "Find out the reason that commands you to write; see whether it has spread its roots into the very depth of your heart; confess to yourself you would have to die if you were forbidden to write.
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About Rainer Maria Rilke
René Karl Wilhelm Johann Josef Maria Rilke (4 December 1875 – 29 December 1926), better known as Rainer Maria Rilke, was a Bohemian-Austrian poet and novelist, generally considered the German language's greatest poet of the 20th century. His writings include one novel, several collections of poetry and several volumes of correspondence in which he invokes images that focus on the difficulty of communion with the ineffable in an age of disbelief, solitude and anxiety. These themes position him as a transitional figure between traditional and modernist writers.
Biography information from Wikiquote
Also Known As
Alternative Names:
René Karl Wilhelm Johann Josef Maria Rilke
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René Maria Cäsar Rilke
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Rainer Karl Wilhelm Johann Josef Maria Rilke
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Li-erh-kʻo
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Rainer Maria Rielke
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René Rilke
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Rainer Mariyah Rilḳeh
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Rainŏ Maria Rilkʻe
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Reiner Marie Rilke
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Rene Karl Wilhelm Johann Josef Maria Rilke
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Rene Rilke
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Additional quotes by Rainer Maria Rilke
Have patience with everything that remains unsolved in your heart. Try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books written in a foreign language. Do not now look for the answers. They cannot now be given to you because you could not live them. It is a question of experiencing everything. At present you need to live the question. Perhaps you will gradually, without even noticing it, find yourself experiencing the answer, some distant day.
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Ach, die Gärten bist du, ach, ich sah sie mit solcher Hoffnung. Ein offenes Fenster im Landhaus—, und du tratest beinahe mir nachdenklich heran. Gassen fand ich,— du warst sie gerade gegangen, und die spiegel manchmal der Läden der Händler waren noch schwindlich von dir und gaben erschrocken mein zu plötzliches Bild.—Wer weiß, ob derselbe Vogel nicht hinklang durch uns gestern, einzeln, im Abend?
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