― Rainer Maria Rilke, The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge
[text id : “To be loved means to be consumed. To love means to radiate with inexhaustible light. To be loved is to pass away, to love is to endure.” ― Rainer Maria Rilke, The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge]
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I am learning to see. Why, I cannot say, but all things enter more deeply into me; nor do the impressions remain at the level where they used to cease. There is a place within me of which I knew nothing. Now all things tend that way. I do not know what happens there. [...] I have resolved to write no more letters. Why should I inform anyone of the changes within me? If I am changing, I no longer remain the person I was, and if I become someone else, it follows that I have no friends or acquaintances. And to write to strangers, to people who do not know me, is quite out of the question.
Rainer Maria Rilke, The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge
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― Rainer Maria Rilke, The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge
[text ID: To be loved means to be consumed. To love means to radiate with inexhaustible light. To be loved is to pass away, to love is to endure.]
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evet, şimdi yalnız insanlardan değil: her şeyden uzaklaşmakta olduğunu biliyordu.
rainer maria rilke - malte laurids brigge'nin notları
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Yes, he knew that he was withdrawing from everything: not merely from human beings. A moment more and everything will have lost its meaning, and that table and the cup, and the chair to which he clings, all the near and the commonplace, will have become unintelligible, strange and heavy. So he sat there and waited until it should have happened. And defended himself no longer.
Rainer Maria Rilke, from The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge, 1910
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Rainer Maria Rilke, Der Tod des Kammerherrn Christoph Detlev Brigge, illustration by Oldřich Kulhánek, Ascona Presse 1986.
Portrayal of the heavy death of the old Kammerherr ('chamberlain') Christoph Detlev Brigge, the grandfather of Malte Laurids Brigge, in Ulsgaard.
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@thegodspawn liked for a poetry starter !
“ I am learning to see. I don't know why it is, but everything enters me more deeply and doesn't stop where it once used to. I have an interior that I never knew of... “
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Rainer Maria Rilke, The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge
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The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge by Rainer Maria Rilke
Orange Is the New Black: "Riot FOMO"
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"I'm lying in my bed five flights up and my day which nothing interrupts is like a clock face without hands. Just as a thing that has long been lost is found one morning back safe and sound where it belongs and looking almost newer than it did at the time it went missing just as if someone had been taking care of it—: so here and here on my blanket lie things that were lost in my childhood and are now like new. All my lost fears are here once more. The fear that a small woollen thread sticking out of the hem of the blanket may be hard, hard and sharp as a steel needle; the fear that this little button on my nightshirt may be bigger than my head, big and heavy; the fear that this breadcrumb now falling from my bed may turn into glass and shatter when it meets the floor, and the oppressive fear that when, in reality, it does then everything will be broken into pieces, everything, forever; the fear that the margin strip of a torn-open letter may be something that's forbidden, that no one should be allowed to see, something indescribably precious, for which there is no place in the room that could be safe enough; the fear that if I were allowed to fall asleep, I might swallow the piece of coal that's lying in front of the stove; the fear that some number may begin to grow in my brain until it has no more room; the fear that what I'm lying on may be granite, grey granite; the fear that I could start screaming and people would flock to my door and eventually break it open; the fear that I could give myself away and tell about all I'm frightened of; and the fear that there's nothing I could say because its all unsayable, —and the other fears... the fears."
— The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge, Rainer Maria Rilke.
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bütün haritalarda yörüngesi yanlış çizili olan sen.
rainer maria rilke - malte laurids brigge'nin notları
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. . . it is you; you are the light around these familiar intimate things.
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