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Rainer Maria Rilke (4 December 1875 - 29 December 1926) is generally considered the German language's greatest poet of the 20th century; born René Karl Wilhelm Johann Josef Maria Rilke.

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 * Just as language has no longer anything in common with the thing it names, so the movements of most of the people who live in cities have lost their connexion with the earth; they hang, as it were, in the air, hover in all directions, and find no place where they can settle.
 * Worpswede (1903)

 * Du im Voraus verlorne Geliebte, Nimmergekommene, nicht weiß ich, welche Töne dir lieb sind. Nicht mehr versuch ich, dich, wenn das Kommende wogt, zu erkennen.
 * Translation: You who never arrived in my arms, Beloved, who were lost from the start, I don't even know what songs would please you. I have given up trying to recognize you in the surging wave of the next moment.
 * You Who Never Arrived (as translated by Stephen Mitchell) (1913-1914)

 * 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?
 * Translation: You, Beloved, who are all the gardens I have ever gazed at, longing. An open window in a country house-, and you almost stepped out, pensive, to meet me. Streets that I chanced upon,— you had just walked down them and vanished. And sometimes, in a shop, the mirrors were still dizzy with your presence and, startled, gave back my too-sudden image. Who knows? perhaps the same bird echoed through both of us yesterday, separate, in the evening...
 * You Who Never Arrived (as translated by Stephen Mitchell)

 * Schon ist mein Blick am Hügel, dem besonnten, dem Wege, den ich kaum begann, voran. So fasst uns das, was wir nicht fassen konnten, voller Erscheinung, aus der Ferne an— und wandelt uns, auch wenn wirs nicht erreichen, in jenes, das wir, kaum es ahnend, sind; ein Zeichen weht, erwidernd unserm Zeichen... Wir aber spüren nur den Gegenwind.
 * Translation: Already my gaze is upon the hill, the sunny one, at the end of the path which I've only just begun. So we are grasped, by that which we could not grasp, at such great distance, so fully manifest— and it changes us, even when we do not reach it, into something that, hardly sensing it, we already are; a sign appears, echoing our own sign... But what we sense is the falling winds.
 * Spaziergang (A Walk) (March 1924)

 * I am much too alone in this world, yet not alone enough to truly consecrate the hour. I am much too small in this world, yet not small enough to be to you just object and thing, dark and smart. I want my free will and want it accompanying the path which leads to action; and want during times that beg questions, where something is up, to be among those in the know, or else be alone.
 * I Am Much Too Alone in This World, Yet Not Alone, st. 1 (as translated by Annemarie S. Kidder)

 * The work of the eyes is done. Go now and do the heart-work on the images imprisoned within you.
 * Wendung (Turning Point) (as translated by Stephen Mitchell)

 * He was a poet and hated the approximate.
 * The Journal of My Other Self

 * Death is the dies of life which is turned away from us.
 * Letter to W. von Hulewicz

Rilke and Benvenuta: an Intimate Correspondence
Trans. Joel Agee

 * Children rest in love...but then they are still pure in their illusion that it is possible to belong to someone; and when they say 'mine', they make no claim to ownership; they hug and let go, and when they do hold on, it is God with whom they are still enmeshed, who draws the others to himself through their innocently open arms.

 * If I were to tell you where my greatest feeling, my universal feeling, the bliss of my earthly existence has been, I would have to confess: It has always, here and there, been in this kind of in-seeing, in the indescribably swift, deep, timeless moments of this divine seeing into the heart of things.

 * Oh my heart feels like a spring, and next to it lies my old deep sullen well, let it, I'm not drawing from it these days.

 * Take a good look through the well-aimed telescope, there's a small bright spot -do you have it? -that is my heart, you can't make it out.

 * For therein, too, lies my power, that I do not impede the most secret powers within me.

 * Don't forget that I belong to solitude, that I must not need anyone, that all my strength is born from this detachment.

 * To speak of love is to speak of hardness.

 * May I be granted that, in your hands, the habit of looking on love as a thing to accomplish will leave, like an old pain- and that, slowly raising my eyes to look at you, I would no longer know where it had hurt- or where it had been.

 * To be loved means to be consumed. To love is to give light with inexhaustible oil. To be loved is to pass away, to love is to endure.

 * The most fleeting of relation between people is governed by the state of mind they bring to it -now at once a vastness will enter into it if that vastness is there to begin with.

 * We know that we love each other from a time before the earth began, from a childhood before all the ages of being, we love each other from the womb of existence, as the stars would love one another if they knew of their splendor.

 * Never has language seemed wondrous to me in another, or how you make me love language. Do we not speak to each other as the stars speak to earth and the earth to the stars? Just that our speech is not silence, not comic silence, but language, the language of human beings.

 * It is music then, that would speak [of love]. But when music speaks, it does not speak to us. The perfect work of art touches us on our condition only that it outlives us.

 * Music is closer to us, then; it streams toward us; we stand in its way, but then it goes right through us. It is almost like a higher air, we draw it into the lungs of spirit and it gives us a greater blood in the secret circulation.

 * When I saw others straining toward God, I did not understand it, for though I may have had him less than they did, there was no one blocking the way between him and me, and I could reach his heart easily. It is up to him, after all, to have us, our part consists of almost solely in letting him grasp us.

 * What is sacrifice? I believe it is nothing other than the boundless, no longer limitable resolve of a human being to reach his purest inner potential.

 * For a strength,...for an inconquerable strength of heart, from which my true strength for God will only begin to develop, that strength must be firmly tied to what is human, otherwise it will break in those heights where no one can help it any longer, and wither away in the air.

 * For one who is not pure has many enemies everywhere and is not safe from them. Only a pure being walks right through his enemy, shaking him to the core.

 * Oh purity: Is it still possible? Is it possible still to be pure again? Is there a spring that would not be polluted by washing away one's shamefulness? Can such stained water still show itself in nature, which knows waste and ordure, but no evil, nothing opposed to herself, for she encompasses even what is most alien within her.

Das Stundenbuch (The Book of Hours) (1899-1903)

 * Extinguish my sight, and I can still see you; plug up my ears, and I can still hear; even without feet I can walk toward you, and without mouth I can still implore. Break off my arms, and I will hold you with my heart as if it were a hand; strangle my heart, and my brain will still throb; and should you set fire to my brain, I still can carry you with my blood.
 * Translated by Annemarie S. Kidder

 * Ich bin auf der Welt zu allein und doch nicht allein genug, um jede Studen zu weihen. Ich bin auf der Welt zu gering und doch nicht klein genug, um vor dir zu sein wie ein Ding, dunkel und klug. Ich will meinen Willen und will meinen Willen begleiten die Wege zur Tat; und will in stillen, irgendwie zörgernden Zeiten, wenn etwas naht, unter den Wissenden sein oder allein.
 * Translation: I am too alone in the world, and yet not alone enough to make every hour holy. I am too small in the world, and yet not tiny enough just to stand before you like a thing, dark and shrewd. I want my will, and I want to be with my will as it moves towards deed; and in those quiet, somehow hesitating times, when something is approaching, I want to be with those who are wise or else alone.
 * Number 2 (as translated by Cliff Crego)

Das Buch der Bilder (The Book of Images) (1902)

 * Aus unendlichen Sehnsüchten steigen endliche Taten wie schwache Fontänen, die sich zeitig und zitternd neigen. Aber, die sich uns sonst verschweigen, unsere fröhlichen kräfte—zeigen sich in diesen tanzenden Tränen.
 * Translation: Out of infinite longings rise finite deeds like weak fountains, falling back just in time and trembling. And yet, what otherwise remains silent, our happy energies—show themselves in these dancing tears.
 * Initiale (Initial) (as translated by Cliff Crego)

 * Herr: es ist Zeit. Der Sommer war seht groß. Leg deinen Schatten auf die Sonnenuhren, und auf den Fluren laß die Winde los.
 * Translation: Lord: it is time. The summer was immense. Let thine shadows upon the sundials fall, and unleash the winds upon the open fields.
 * Herbsttag (Autumn Day) (as translated by Cliff Crego)

 * Der Abend wechselt langsam die Gewänder, die ihm ein Rand von alten Bäumen hält.
 * Translation: Slowly the evening changes into the clothes held for it by a row of ancient trees.
 * Abend (Evening) (as translated by Cliff Crego)

Neue Gedichte (New Poems) (1907-1908)

 * Wie soll ich meine Seele halten, daß sie nicht an deine rührt? Wie soll ich sie hinheben über dich zu andern Dingen? Ach gerne möchte ich sie bei irgendetwas Verlorenem im Dunkel unterbringen an einer fremden stillen Stelle, die nicht weiterschwingt, wenn diene Tiefen schwingen. Doch alles, was uns anrührt, dich und mich, nimmt uns zusammen wie ein Bogenstrich, die aus zwei Saiten eine Stimme zieht. Auf welches Instrument sind wir gespannt? Und welcher Geiger hat uns in der Hand? O süßes Lied.
 * Translation: How shall I hold on to my soul, so that it does not touch yours? How shall I lift it gently up over you on to other things? I would so very much like to tuck it away among long lost objects in the dark, in some quiet, unknown place, somewhere which remains motionless when your depths resound. And yet everything which touches us, you and me, takes us together like a single bow, drawing out from two strings but one voice. On which instrument are we strung? And which violinist holds us in his hand? O sweetest of songs.
 * Liebes-Lied (Love Song) (as translated by Cliff Crego)

 * Diese Mühsal, durch noch Ungetanes schwer und wie gebunden hinzugehen, gleicht dem ungeschaffnen Gang des Schwanes. Und das Sterben, dieses Nichtmehrfassen jenes Grunds, auf dem wir täglich stehen, seinem ängstlichen Sich-Niederlassen—: in die Wasser, die ihn sanft empfangen und die sich, wie glücklich und vergangen, unter ihm zurückziehn, Flut um Flut; während er unendlich still und sicher immer mündiger und königlicher und gelassener zu ziehn geruht.
 * Translation: This difficult living, heavy and as if all tied up, moving through that which has been left undone, is like the not-quite-finished walk of the swan. And dying, this slipping away from the ground upon which we stand every day, is his anxious letting himself fall—: into the waters, which receive him gladly and which, as if happily already gone by, draw back under him, wave after wave; while the swan, infinitely calm and self-assured, opener and more magnificent and more serene, allows himself to be drawn on.
 * Der Schwan (The Swan) (as translated by Cliff Crego)

 * Die nächste Flut verwischt den Weg im Watt, und alles wird auf allen Seiten gleich; die kleine Insel draußen aber hat die Augen zu; verwirrend kreist der Deich um ihre Wohner, die in einem Schlaf geboren werden, drin sie viele Welten verwechseln schweigend, denn sie reden selten, und jeder Satz ist wie ein Epitaph
 * Translation: The next tide will erase the way through the mudflats, and everything will be again equal on all sides; but the small, far-out island already has its eyes closed; bewildered, the dike draws a circle around its inhabitants who were born into a sleep in which many worlds are silently confused, for they rarely speak, and every phrase is like an epitaph.
 * Die Insel I (The Island I) (as translated by Cliff Crego)

Der Panther (The Panther) (1907)

 * Sein Blick ist vom Vorübergehen der Stäbe so müd geworden, daß er nichts mehr hält. Ihm ist, als ob es tausend Stäbe gäbe und hinter tausend Stäben keine Welt. Der weiche Gang geschmeidig starker Schritte, der sich im allerkleinsten Kreise dreht, ist wie ein Tanz von Kraft um eine Mitte, in der betäubt ein großer Wille steht. Nur manchmal schiebt der Vorhang der Pupille sich lautlos auf—. Dann geht ein Bild hinein, geht durch der Glieder angespannte Stille— und hört im Herzen auf zu sein.
 * Translation: His tired gaze - from passing endless bars - has turned into a vacant stare which nothing holds. To him there seem to be a thousand bars, and out beyond these bars exists no world. His supple gait, the smoothness of strong strides that gently turn in ever smaller circles perform a dance of strength, centered deep within a will, stunned, but untamed, indomitable. But sometimes the curtains of his eyelids part, the pupils of his eyes dilate as images of past encounters enter while through his limbs a tension strains in silence only to cease to be, to die within his heart.
 * As translated by Albert Ernest Flemming

In Celebration of Me (1909)

 * I am so afraid of people's words. They describe so distinctly everything: And this they call dog and that they call house, here the start and there the end. I worry about their mockery with words, they know everything, what will be, what was; no mountain is still miraculous; and their house and yard lead right up to God. I want to warn and object: Let the things be! I enjoy listening to the sound they are making. But you always touch:  and they hush and stand still. That's how you kill.
 * Translated by Annemarie S. Kidder

Die Aufzeichnungen des Malte Laurids Brigge (The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge) (1910)
Trans. M.D. Herter Norton

 * But now that so much is changing, is it not up to us to change ourselves? Could we not develop ourselves a little, and slowly take upon ourselves our share of work in love, little by little?

 * For as yet I did not understand fame, that public destruction of one in the process of becoming, into whose building-ground the mob breaks, displacing his stones.

 * Fate loves to invent patterns and designs. Its difficulty lies in complexity. But life itself is difficult because of its simplicity. It has only a few things of grandeur not fit for us.

 * Nothing in the world can one imagine beforehand, not the least thing. Everything is made up of so many unique particulars that cannot be foreseen.

 * I have never been aware before how many faces there are. There are quantities of human beings, but there are many more faces, for each person has several.

 * I am learning to see. I don't know why it is, but everything penetrates more deeply into me and does not stop at the place where until now it always used to finish. I have an inner self of which I was ignorant. Everything goes thither now, what happens there I do not know.

 * When one speaks of solitaries, one always takes too much for granted, one supposes that people know what one is talking about. No, they do not. They have never seen a solitary, they have simply hated him without knowing him.

 * The loneliness I had brought upon myself and to the greatness of which my heart no longer stood in any sort of proportion. People came to my mind whom I had once left, and I did not understand how one could forsake people.

 * For verses are not, as people imagine, simply feelings (those one has early enough), -they are experiences. For the sake of a single verse, one must see many cities, men and things, one must know the animals, one must feel how the birds fly and know the gesture with which the little flowers open in the morning.

 * For sometime now I have believed that it is our own force, all our own force that is still too great for us. It is true that we do not know it; but is it not just that which is most our own of which we know the least?

 * For centuries now, they [women] have performed the whole of love; they have always played the full dialogue, both parts. For the man has only imitated them, and badly. And has made their learning difficult with his inatentiviness, with his negligence, with his jealousy.

 * The woman who loves always transcends the man she loves, because life is greater than fate. Her devotion wants to be immeasurable; that is her happiness.

Duino Elegies(1922)

 * Who, if I cried out, would hear me among the angels' hierarchies? and even if one of them suddenly pressed me against his heart, I would perish in the embrace of his stronger existence.  For beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror which we are barely able to endure and are awed because it serenely disdains to annihilate us. Each single angel is terrifying.
 * First Elegy (as translated by Stephen Mitchell)

 * Look, we don't love like flowers with only one season behind us; when we love, a sap older than memory rises in our arms.
 * Third Elegy

 * Never think destiny's more than the substrate of childhood: how often you'd catch up with a lover, panting, panting, from the happy chase, into the open forever.
 * Seventh Elegy

 * And we: spectators, always, everywhere, looking at everything, and never from!...Who's turned us around like this, so that whatever we do, we always have the look of someone going away? Just as a man on the last hill showing him his whole valley one last time, turns, and stops, and lingers -so we live, and are forever leaving.
 * Eighth Elegy

 * Why, then, do we have to be human and, avoiding fate, long for fate?
 * Ninth Elegy

 * Our heart survives between hammers, just as the tongue between teeth is still able to praise.
 * Ninth Elegy

 * And we who have always thought of joy as rising, would feel the emotion that almost amazes us when a happy things falls.
 * Tenth Elegy

 * Yes, the springtime was in need of you. Often a star waited for you to espy it and sense its light. A wave rolled toward you out of the distant past, or as you walked below an open window, a violin gave itself to your hearing. All this was trust. But could you manage it? Were you not always distraught by expectation, as if all this were announcing the arrival of a beloved?

Sonnets to Orpheus (1922)

 * A tree ascended there. Oh pure transendence! Oh Orpheus sings! Oh tall tree in the ear! And all things hushed. Yet even in that silence a new beginning, beckoning, change appeared.
 * Translated by Stephen Mitchell

 * They more adeptly bend the willow's branches who have experience of the willow's roots.
 * Sonnet 6 (as translated by Edward Snow)

 * When you go to bed, don't leave bread or milk on the table: it attracts the dead.
 * Sonnet 6 (as translated by Edward Snow)

Imaginärer Lebenslauf (Imaginary Life Journey) (September 13, 1923)

 * Erst eine Kindheit, grenzenlos und ohne Verzicht und Ziel. O unbewußte Lust. Auf einmal Schrecken, Schranke, Schule, Frohne und Absturtz in Versuchung und Verlust. Trotz. Der Gebogene wird selber Bieger und rächt an anderen, daß er erlag. Geliebt, gefürchtet, Retter, Ringer, Sieger und Überwinder, Schlag auf Schlag. Und dann allein im Weiten, Leichten, Kalten. Doch tief in der errichteten Gestalt ein Atemholen nach dem Ersten, Alten... Da stürzte Gott aus seinem Hinterhalt.
 * Translation: First a childhood, limitless and without renunciation or goals. O unselfconscious joy. Then suddenly terror, barriers, schools, drudgery, and collapse into temptation and loss. Defiance. The one bent becomes the bender, and thrusts upon others that which it suffered. Loved, feared, rescuer, fighter, winner and conqueror, blow by blow. And then alone in cold, light, open space, yet still deep within the mature erected form, a gasping for the clear air of the first one, the old one... Then God leaps out from behind his hiding place.
 * As translated by Cliff Crego

Letters to a Young Poet (1934)

 * Nothing touches a work of art so little as words of criticism : they always result in more or less fortunate misunderstandings. Things aren't all so tangible and sayable as people would usually have us believe; most experiences are unsayable, they happen in a space that no word has ever entered, and more unsayable than all other things are works of art, those mysterious existences, whose life endures beside our own small, transitory life.
 * Letter One (February 17, 1903)

 * No one can advise or help you - no one. There is only one thing you should do. Go into yourself. Find out the reason that commands you to write; see whether it has spread its roots into the very depths of your heart; confess to yourself whether you would have to die if you were forbidden to write.
 * Letter One (February 17, 1903)

 * A work of art is good if it has grown out of necessity.
 * Letter One (February 17, 1903)

 * I could give you no advice but this: to go into yourself and to explore the depths where your life wells forth.
 * Letter One (February 17, 1903)

 * Irony: Do not let yourself be governed by it, especially not in unproductive moments. In productive ones try to make use of it as one more means of seizing life.
 * Letter Two (April 5, 1903)

 * No experience has been too unimportant, and the smallest event unfolds like a fate, and fate itself is like a wonderful, wide fabric in which every thread is guided by an infinitely tender hand and laid alongside another thread and is held and supported by a hundred others.
 * Letter Three (April 23, 1903)

 * Read as little as possible of literary criticism - such things are either partisan opinions, which have become petrified and meaningless, hardened and empty of life, or else they are just clever word-games, in which one view wins today, and tomorrow the opposite view. Works of art are of an infinite solitude, and no means of approach is so useless as criticism.
 * Letter Three (April 23, 1903)

 * Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now 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. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.
 * Letter Four (July 16, 1903)
 * Variant: Have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don't search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer. (as translated by Stephen Mitchell)

 * If you trust in Nature, in the small Things that hardly anyone sees and that can so suddenly become huge, immeasurable; if you have this love for what is humble and try very simply, as someone who serves, to win the confidence of what seems poor: then everything will become easier for you, more coherent and somehow more reconciling, not in your conscious mind perhaps, which stays behind, astonished, but in your innermost awareness, awakeness, and knowledge.
 * Letter Four (July 16, 1903)

 * Sex is difficult; yes. But those tasks that have been entrusted to us are difficult; almost everything serious is difficult; and everything is serious. If you just recognize this and manage, out of yourself, out of your own talent and nature, out of your own experience and childhood and strength, to achieve a wholly individual relation to sex (one that is not influenced by convention and custom), then you will no longer have to be afraid of losing yourself and becoming unworthy of your dearest possession.
 * Letter Four (July 16, 1903)

 * Physical pleasure is a sensual experience no different from pure seeing or the pure sensation with which a fine fruit fills the tongue; it is a great unending experience, which is given us, a knowing of the world, the fullness and the glory of all knowing. And not our acceptance of it is bad; the bad thing is that most people misuse and squander this experience and apply it as a stimulant at the tired spots of their lives and as distraction instead of a rallying toward exalted moments.
 * Letter Four (July 16, 1903)

 * The great renewal of the world will perhaps consist in this, that man and maid, freed of all false feelings and reluctances, will seek each other not as opposites, but as brother and sister, as neighbors, and will come together as human beings.
 * Letter Four (July 16, 1903)

 * Through such impressions one gathers oneself, wins oneself back from the exacting multiplicity, which speaks and chatters there (and how talkative it is!), and one slowly learns to recognize the very few Things in which something eternal endures that one can love and something solitary that one can gently take part in.
 * About Rome
 * Letter Five (October 29, 1903)

 * As bees gather honey, so we collect what is sweetest out of all things and build Him. Even with the trivial, with the insignificant (as long as it is done out of love) we begin, with work and with the repose that comes afterward, with a silence or with a small solitary joy, with everything that we do alone, without anyone to join or help us, we start Him whom we will not live to see, just as our ancestors could not live to see us. And yet they, who passed away long ago, still exist in us, as predisposition, as burden upon our fate, as murmuring blood, and as gesture that rises up from the depths of time. Is there anything that can deprive you of the hope that in this way you will someday exist in Him, who is the farthest, the outermost limit?
 * Letter Six (December 23, 1903)

 * Love is something difficult and it is more difficult than other things because in other conflicts nature herself enjoins men to collect themselves, to take themselves firmly in the hand with all their strength, while in the heightening of love the impulse is to give oneself wholly away.
 * Letter Seven (May 14, 1904)

 * People have (with the help of conventions) oriented all their solutions toward the easy and toward the easiest side of the easy; but it is clear that we must hold to what is difficult; everything alive holds to it, everything in Nature grows and defends itself in its own way and is characteristically and spontaneously itself, seeks at all costs to be so and against all opposition. We know little, but that we must hold to what is difficult is a certainty that will not forsake us; it is good to be solitary, for solitude is difficult; that something is difficult must be a reason the more for us to do it. To love is good, too: love being difficult. For one human being to love another: that is perhaps the most difficult of all our tasks, the ultimate, the last test and proof, the work for which all other work is but preparation.
 * Letter Seven (May 14, 1904)

 * Young people, who are beginners in everything, cannot yet know love: they have to learn it.
 * Letter Seven (May 14, 1904)

 * Love is at first not anything that means merging, giving over and uniting with another (for what would a union be of something unclarified and unfinished, still subordinate?), it is a high inducement to the individual to ripen, to become world, to become world for himself for another's sake. It is a great exacting claim upon him, something that chooses him out and calls him to vast things.
 * Letter Seven (May 14, 1904)

 * The demands which the difficult work of love makes upon our development are more than life-size, and as beginners we are not up to them. But if we nevertheless hold out and take this love upon us as burden and apprenticeship, instead of losing ourselves in all the light and frivolous play, behind which people have hidden from the most earnest earnestness of their existence — then a little progress and alleviation will perhaps be perceptible to those who come long after us; that would be much.
 * Letter Seven (May 14, 1904)

 * Young people -it is obvious -cannot achieve such a relationship, but they can, if they understand their life properly, grow up slowly to such happiness and prepare themselves for it. They must not forget, when they love, that they are beginners, bunglers of life, apprentices in love- must learn love, and that like all learning wants peace, patience, and composure.
 * On young couples who have not yet matured enough to recognize and respect each other's solitude
 * Letter Seven (May 14, 1904)

 * Someday there will be girls and women whose name will no longer mean the mere opposite of the male, but something in itself, something that makes one think not of any complement and limit, but only life and reality: the female human being.
 * Letter Seven (May 14, 1904)

 * It seems to me that almost all our sadnesses are moments of tension, which we feel as paralysis because we no longer hear our astonished emotions living. Because we are alone with the unfamiliar presence that has entered us; because everything we trust and are used to is for a moment taken away from us; because we stand in the midst of a transition where we cannot remain standing. That is why the sadness passes: the new presence inside us, the presence that has been added, has entered our heart, has gone into its innermost chamber and is no longer even there, - is already in our bloodstream. And we don't know what it was. We could easily be made to believe that nothing happened, and yet we have changed, as a house that a guest has entered changes. We can't say who has come, perhaps we will never know, but many signs indicate that the future enters us in this way in order to be transformed in us, long before it happens. And that is why it is so important to be solitary and attentive when one is sad: because the seemingly uneventful and motionless moment when our future steps into us is so much closer to life than that other loud and accidental point of time when it happens to us as if from outside. The quieter we are, the more patient and open we are in our sadnesses, the more deeply and serenely the new presence can enter us, and the more we can make it our own, the more it becomes our fate.
 * Letter Eight (August 12, 1904)

 * If only we arrange our life according to that principle which counsels us that we must hold to the difficult, then that which now still seems to us the most alien will become what we most trust and find most faithful.
 * Letter Eight (August 12, 1904)

 * There is probably no point in my going into your questions now; for what I could say about your tendency to doubt or about your inability to bring your outer and inner lives into harmony or about all the other thing that oppress you - : is just what I have already said: just the wish that you may find in yourself enough patience to endure and enough simplicity to have faith; that you may gain more and more confidence in what is difficult and in your solitude among other people. And as for the rest, let life happen to you. Believe me: life is in the right, always.
 * Letter Nine (November 4, 1904)

 * All feelings that concentrate you and lift you up are pure; only that feeling is impure which grasps just one side of your being and thus distorts you. Everything you can think of as you face your childhood, is good. Everything that makes more of you than you have ever been, even in your best hours, is right. Every intensification is good, if it is in your entire blood, if it isn't intoxication or muddiness, but joy which you can see into, clear to the bottom.
 * Letter Nine (November 4, 1904)

 * It must be immense, this silence, in which sounds and movements have room, and if one thinks that along with all this the presence of the distant sea also resounds, perhaps as the innermost note in this prehistoric harmony, then one can only wish that you are trustingly and patiently letting the magnificent solitude work upon you, this solitude which can no longer be erased from your life; which, in everything that is in store for you to experience and to do, will act as an anonymous influence, continuously and gently decisive, rather as the blood of our ancestors incessantly moves in us and combines with our own to form the unique, unrepeatable being that we are at every turning of our life.
 * Letter Ten (December 26, 1908)

 * Art too is just a way of living, and however one lives, one can, without knowing, prepare for it; in everything real one is closer to it, more its neighbor, than in the unreal half-artistic professions, which, while they pretend to be close to art, in practice deny and attack the existence of all art - as, for example, all of journalism does and almost all criticism and three quarters of what is called (and wants to be called) literature.
 * Letter Ten (December 26, 1908)

 * I hold this to be the highest task of a bond between two people: that each should stand guard over the solitude of the other. For, if it lies in the nature of indifference and of the crowd to recognize no solitude, then love and friendship are there for the purpose of continually providing the opportunity for solitude. And only those are the true sharings which rythmically interrupt periods of deep isolation.

 * To be an artist means: not to reckon and count, to ripen like the tree which does not force its sap and stands confident in the storm of Spring without fear lest no Summer might come after.

 * Resolve to be always beginning -to be a beginner!

 * For believe me, the more one is, the richer is all that one experiences.

 * Turn therefore from the common themes to those which your everyday life affords; depict your sorrows and desires, your passing thoughts and belief in some kind of beauty -depict all that with heartfelt, quiet, humble sincerity and use to express yourself the things that surround you.

 * Then take your fate upon yourself and bear it, its burden and its greatness, without ever asking for that reward which might come from without.

 * At bottom no one in life can help anyone else in life; this one experiences over and over in every conflict and every perplexity: that one is alone.

 * Self-transformation is precisely what life is.

 * There is scarcely anything more difficult than to love one another. That is work, day labor, day labor, God knows there is no other word for it.

 * Like so much else, people have also misunderstood the place of love in life, they have made it into play and pleasuure because they thought that play and pleasure were more blissful than work; but there is nothing happier than work, and love, just because it is the extreme happiness, can be nothing else but work.

 * So whoever loves must try to act as if he had a great work: he must be much alone and go into himself and collect himself and hold fast to himself; he must work; he must become something!

 * Human relationships, which are an extract of life, are the most changeable of all, rising and falling, from minute to minute, and lovers are those whose relationships and contact no one moment resembles another.

 * All companionship can consist only in the strengthening of two neighboring solitudes, whereas everything that one is wont to call giving oneself is by nature harmful to companionship: for when a person abandons himself, he is no longer anything, and when two people both give themselves up in order to come close to each other, there is no longer any ground beneath them and their being together is a continual falling.

 * I am of the opinion that 'marriage' as such does not deserve as much emphasis as it has acquired through the conventional development of its nature. It does not occur to anyone to expect a single person to be 'happy' -but if he marries, people are much suprised if he isn't.

 * Marriage is, in many respects, a simplification of one's way of life, and the union naturally combines the forces and wills of two young people so that, together, they seem to reach farther into the future than before. -Only, those are sensations by which one cannot live.

 * Above all, marriage is a new task and a new seriousness, -a new challenge to and questioning of the strength and generosity of each partner and a great new danger for both.

 * A good marriage is that in which each appoints the other guardian of his solitude, and shows him this confidence, the greatest in his power to bestow.

 * Once the realization is accepted that even between the closest human beings infinite distances continue to exist, an wonderful living side by side can grow up, if they succeed in loving the distance between them which makes it possible for each to see the other whole and against a wide sky.

 * Poetic power is great, strong as a primitive instinct; it has its own unyielding rhythms in itself and breaks out as out of mountains.

Rilke's Letters on Cézanne (1952, trans. 1985)

 * Surely all art is the result of one’s having been in danger, of having gone through an experience all the way to the end, where no one can go any further. The further one goes, the more private, the more personal, the more singular an experience becomes, and the thing one is making is, finally, the necessary, irrepressible, and, as nearly as possible, definitive utterance of this singularity.
 * Letter to his wife, reprinted in Rilke’s Letters on Cézanne (1952, trans. 1985). (June 24, 1907)

 * Ideally a painter (and, generally, an artist) should not become conscious of his insights: without taking the detour through his reflective processes, and incomprehensibly to himself, all his progress should enter so swiftly into the work that he is unable to recognise them in the moment of transition. Alas, the artist who waits in ambush there, watching, detaining them, will find them transformed like the beautiful gold in the fairy tale which cannot remain gold because some small detail was not taken care of.
 * Letter to his wife, reprinted in Rilke’s Letters on Cézanne (1952, trans. 1985). (October 21, 1907)

 * Painting is something that takes place among the colors, and ... one has to leave them alone completely, so that they can settle the matter among themselves. Their intercourse: this is the whole of painting. Whoever meddles, arranges, injects his human deliberation, his wit, his advocacy, his intellectual agility in any way, is already disturbing and clouding their activity.
 * Letter to his wife, reprinted in Rilke’s Letters on Cézanne (1952, trans. 1985). (October 21, 1907)

 * Just as the creative artist is not allowed to choose, neither is he permitted to turn his back on anything: a single refusal, and he is cast out of the state of grace and becomes sinful all the way through.
 * Letter to his wife, reprinted in Rilke’s Letters on Cézanne (1952, trans. 1985). (October 23, 1907)

 * He [Cézanne] reproduced himself with so much humble objectivity, with the unquestioning, matter of fact interest of a dog who sees himself in a mirror and thinks: there’s another dog.
 * Letter to his wife, reprinted in Rilke’s Letters on Cézanne (1952, trans. 1985). (October 23, 1907)

 * Not since Moses has anyone seen a mountain so greatly.
 * Quoted in Rilke's Letters on Cézanne, foreword (1952, trans. 1985).

 * Somehow I too must find a way of making things ; not plastic, written things, but realities that arise from the craft itself. Somehow I too must discover the smallest constituent element, the cell of my art, the tangible immaterial means of expressing everything.

Selected Letters of Rainer Maria Rilke (1960)

 * What is required of us is that we love the difficult and learn to deal with it. In the difficult are the friendly forces, the hands that work on us. Right in the difficult we must have our joys, our happiness, our dreams: there against the depth of this background, they stand out, there for the first time we see how beautiful they are.

 * To young people I would always like to say just this one thing (it is almost the only thing I know for certain up to now) -that we must always hold to the difficult; that is our part: We must go so deep into life that it lies upon us and is burden: not pleasure should be about us, but life.

 * He who does not at some time, with definite determination consent to the terribleness of life, or even exalt in it, never takes possession of the inexpressible fullness of the power of our existence.

 * How many times in my life -and never so much as now, have I told myself that Art, as I conceive it, is a movement contrary to nature.

 * Whoever does not consecrate himself wholly to art with all his wishes and values can never reach the highest goal. He is not an artist at all.

 * To hold our innermost conscience alert, which with every fully formed experience tells us whether it is thus, as it now stands, altogether to be answered for in its truthfulness and integrity: that is the foundation of every artistic production.

 * For the woman -according to my conviction -a child is a completion and a liberation from all strangeness and insecurity: it is, spiritually too, the mark of maturity.

 * The longer I live, the more necessary it seems to me to endure, to copy the whole dictation of existence to the end, for it might be that only the last sentence contains that small, perhaps inconspicuous word through which all laboriously learned and not understood orients itself toward glorious sense.

 * These fears that fell to my lot out of every day stirred a hundred other fears, and they stood up in me against me and agreed among themselves, and I couldn't get beyond them. In striving to form them, I came to work creatively on them; instead of making them into things of my will, I only gave them a life of their own which they turned against me.

 * The reality of any joy in the world is indescribable, only in joy does creation happen (happiness, on the contrary, is only a promising and interpretable pattern of things already existing); joy, however, is a marvelous increasing of what already exists, a pure addition out of nothingness.

 * For myself, those things that have died, in dying, entered my own heart.

 * These are the days of turning toward the innerself, of increasingly taking possession of oneself, which, under apparent repose, goes on in the most intimate workings of the heart.

 * Oh, how I believe in it, in life. Not that which makes up our time, but that other, the life of little things, the life of animals and of the great plains.

 * Life is very singularly made to suprise us (where it does not utterly appall us).

 * There is an element of death in life, and I am astonished that one pretends to ignore it: death, whose unpitying presence we experience in each turn of fortune we survive because we must learn how to die slowly. We must learn to die: all of life is in that.

 * So deeply does death lie within the nature of love that death contradicts love at no point;...where else, finally, but into the heart itself may death thrust the unutterable things we bear in our hearts.

 * I reproach all modern religions for having presented to their faithful the consolations and extenuations of death, instead of giving their souls the means of getting along with death and coming to an understanding of death, with its complete and unmasked cruelty.

 * Let happy memories sustain you if your strength fails you, they are always there, and their current does not run backwards, even across foggy country it floats toward the future.

 * Religion is something infinitely simple, ingenuous. It is not knowledge, not content of feeling (for all content is admitted from the start, where a man comes to terms with life), it is not duty and not renunciation, it is not restriction: but in the infinite extent of the universe it is a direction of the heart.

 * I feel that to work is to live without dying. I am full of gratitude and joy. For since my earliest youth I have wanted nothing but that.

Unsourced

 * Everywhere I am folded, there I am a lie.

 * If your daily life seems poor, do not blame it; blame yourself, tell yourself that you are not poet enough to call forth its riches.

 * Make your ego porous. Will is of little importance, complaining is nothing, fame is nothing. Openness, patience, receptivity, solitude is everything.

title: User:UDScott/Rilke in progress


text:
User talk:TiresomeTroll9

~ Kalki 20:50, 18 March 2007 (UTC)

license: Creative Commons - Attribution Share-Alike - https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/

title: User talk:TiresomeTroll9


text:
User talk:68.90.8.185

~ Kalki 21:13, 18 March 2007 (UTC)

title: User talk:68.90.8.185


text:
User talk:82.13.248.36

~ Kalki 21:50, 18 March 2007 (UTC)

What the hell. I didn't do anything other than click "random page" a few times. Oh to hell with this.

title: User talk:82.13.248.36


text:
User talk:12.105.118.110

~ Kalki 22:00, 18 March 2007 (UTC)

title: User talk:12.105.118.110


title: User:88wolfmaster


text:
User talk:75.72.81.194

~ Kalki 22:19, 18 March 2007 (UTC)

title: User talk:75.72.81.194


text:
User talk:63.166.222.98

An editor using this IP address recently removed text from another user's post (mine, to be precise). That change has been reverted. Please note that the content of user posts should not be edited by others, per general Wikiquote and Wikimedia etiquette, specifically w:Wikipedia:Talk page guidelines. If you wish to comment on others' posts, you may do so in your own, separate post. Thank you for your cooperation. ~ Jeff Q (talk) 22:48, 18 March 2007 (UTC)

title: User talk:63.166.222.98


text:
Template:Pwelcome

Hi. Welcome to English Wikiquote. Enjoy!--
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title: Template:Pwelcome


text:
User talk:88wolfmaster

Hi. Welcome to English Wikiquote. Enjoy! --Poetlister 22:53, 18 March 2007 (UTC)
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title: User talk:88wolfmaster


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User talk:Pagen293

Hi. Welcome to English Wikiquote. Enjoy!--Poetlister 22:55, 18 March 2007 (UTC)
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title: User talk:Pagen293


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User talk:Flummery~enwikiquote

Hi. Welcome to English Wikiquote. Enjoy!-- Poetlister 22:59, 18 March 2007 (UTC)
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Your account will be renamed
Hello,

The developer team at Wikimedia is making some changes to how accounts work, as part of our on-going efforts to provide new and better tools for our users like cross-wiki notifications. These changes will mean you have the same account name everywhere. This will let us give you new features that will help you edit and discuss better, and allow more flexible user permissions for tools. One of the side-effects of this is that user accounts will now have to be unique across all 900 Wikimedia wikis. See the announcement for more information.

Unfortunately, your account clashes with another account also called Flummery. To make sure that both of you can use all Wikimedia projects in future, we have reserved the name Flummery~enwikiquote that only you will have. If you like it, you don't have to do anything. If you do not like it, you can pick out a different name.

Your account will still work as before, and you will be credited for all your edits made so far, but you will have to use the new account name when you log in.

Sorry for the inconvenience.

Yours, Keegan Peterzell Community Liaison, Wikimedia Foundation 23:23, 17 March 2015 (UTC)

Renamed
 This account has been renamed as part of single-user login finalisation. If you own this account you can |log in using your previous username and password for more information. If you do not like this account's new name, you can choose your own using this form after logging in: . -- Keegan (WMF) (talk) 05:47, 19 April 2015 (UTC)

title: User talk:Flummery~enwikiquote


text:
User talk:Sweetunicorn

Hi. Welcome to English Wikiquote. Enjoy!  Cbrown1023  talk  23:04, 18 March 2007 (UTC)
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User talk:Trjtc

Hi. Welcome to English Wikiquote. Enjoy!  Cbrown1023  talk  23:05, 18 March 2007 (UTC)
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title: User talk:Trjtc


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User talk:Abhirukt~enwikiquote

Hi. Welcome to English Wikiquote. Enjoy!  Cbrown1023  talk  23:11, 18 March 2007 (UTC)
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Your account will be renamed
Hello,

The developer team at Wikimedia is making some changes to how accounts work, as part of our on-going efforts to provide new and better tools for our users like cross-wiki notifications. These changes will mean you have the same account name everywhere. This will let us give you new features that will help you edit and discuss better, and allow more flexible user permissions for tools. One of the side-effects of this is that user accounts will now have to be unique across all 900 Wikimedia wikis. See the announcement for more information.

Unfortunately, your account clashes with another account also called Abhirukt. To make sure that both of you can use all Wikimedia projects in future, we have reserved the name Abhirukt~enwikiquote that only you will have. If you like it, you don't have to do anything. If you do not like it, you can pick out a different name.

Your account will still work as before, and you will be credited for all your edits made so far, but you will have to use the new account name when you log in.

Sorry for the inconvenience.

Yours, Keegan Peterzell Community Liaison, Wikimedia Foundation 23:16, 17 March 2015 (UTC)

Renamed
 This account has been renamed as part of single-user login finalisation. If you own this account you can |log in using your previous username and password for more information. If you do not like this account's new name, you can choose your own using this form after logging in: . -- Keegan (WMF) (talk) 05:40, 19 April 2015 (UTC)

title: User talk:Abhirukt~enwikiquote


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User talk:Natasha brandl

Hi. Welcome to English Wikiquote. Enjoy!  Cbrown1023  talk  23:11, 18 March 2007 (UTC)
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title: User talk:Natasha brandl


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User talk:Jonathangcohen

Hi. Welcome to English Wikiquote. Enjoy!  Cbrown1023  talk  23:11, 18 March 2007 (UTC)
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title: User talk:Jonathangcohen


text:
User talk:68.81.42.174

~ Kalki 23:17, 18 March 2007 (UTC)

title: User talk:68.81.42.174


text:
Wishmaster (film)

Wishmaster is a 1997 horror film about a Djinn that is released from a jewel and seeks to capture the soul of the woman who discovered him, thereby opening a portal and freeing his fellow Djinn to inhabit the earth.
 * Directed by Robert Kurtzman. Written by Peter Atkins.

Be careful what you wish for. (taglines)

Narrator

 * Once, in a time before time, God breathed life into the universe. And the light gave birth to Angels. And the earth gave birth to Man. And the fire gave birth to the Djinn, creatures condemned to dwell in the void between the worlds. One who wakes a Djinn will be given three wishes. Upon the granting of the third, the unholy legions of the Djinn will be freed to rule the earth. Fear one thing in all there is...fear the Djinn.

The Djinn/Nathaniel Demerest

 * Run, insect. Run and tell those you will, what you will. Tell them there is something loose in their city which feeds on wishes. But tell them quickly, while you still have a soul.
 * I claim that which is owed.
 * [Nathaniel provokes a man into wishing he could "escape", and the man suddenly appears in a straitjacket inside a steel-and-glass box filled with water] Houdini did it in two and a half minutes.
 * So, how do you like me so far?

Dialogue

 * Alexandra: A djinn? A genie?
 * Wendy: Now hold on a minute. Forget what our culture has made of the Djinn. Forget Barbara Eden. Forget Robin Williams. To the people of ancient Arabia, the Djinn was neither cute nor funny. It was something else entirely. It was the face of fear itself.

 * The Djinn as Nathaniel Demerest: Do you have any idea how frustrating it is to have unlimited power, and only be able to use it when some worm asks you for something?
 * Merritt's Guard: No, I can't say that I do. I can't say that I give a shit, either.

 * Alexandra: Where's Wendy?
 * The Djinn: Bedroom. But I wouldn't go in there if I were you. Messy. I needed her face.
 * Alexandra: You killed her.
 * The Djinn: Actually, I can't kill anyone. Not unless they wish me to. Your research should have told you that.
 * Alexandra: She didn't wish to be dead, you lying sack of shit!
 * The Djinn: I showed her my true face. Her reaction wasn't very flattering. As a matter of fact, she got downright hysterical! I merely asked if she wished to be released from her fear. You're a dangerous person to know, Alexandra. Your scientist friend, your boss, the policeman, Wendy. By the by-where is that tasty little sister of yours today? [licks upper lip slowly]

 * Beaumont: My God!
 * The Djinn: Not yet, human. Soon... very soon I will be.

 * Alexandra: What happens if I wished you dead?
 * The Djinn: Why, how remarkably original of you, Alexandra. I'll tell you what. I'll give you one free wish. A sample. Just to get you in the spirit of the game.
 * Alexandra: All right. I want you to destroy yourself. Blow your brains out. Right now
 * The Djinn: Very well.
 * [He picks up a gun, presses it under his chin, and pulls the trigger, blowing off the top of his head. But the wound heals instantly, surprising Alexandra.]''
 * The Djinn: That which is eternal cannot die. But if it's any consolation, sweet Alex, THAT HURT LIKE HELL!

 * Wendy: [referring to Raymond Beaumont] What an insufferable prick that man is. Still, it's not your problem. Unless, of course, you're stupid enough to be working for him.
 * Alexandra: [shaking her head] No.
 * Wendy: Or sleeping with him.
 * Alexandra: [slightly disgusted] No.
 * Wendy: Oh good. Well, that establishes your discerning good taste. [turns her attention to something else, then addresses Alex without looking at her] Uh-huh. What can I do for you?
 * Alexandra: [assertively] Absolutely nothing at all until I can get your full attention.
 * Wendy: [turns and stares at her, Alex stares right back] I like you.

Taglines

 * Be careful what you wish for.
 * Don't make a sound, don't make a move, and above all else...don't make a wish.
 * Your next wish could be your last...

Cast

 * Tammy Lauren - Alexandra Amberson
 * Andrew Divoff - The Djinn/Nathaniel Demerest
 * Wendy Benson - Shannon Amberson
 * Jenny O'Hara - Wendy Derleth
 * Robert Englund - Raymond Beaumont

title: Wishmaster (film)


text:
User talk:Jimbo Prince of Wales

~ Kalki 00:13, 19 March 2007 (UTC)

title: User talk:Jimbo Prince of Wales


text:
Ivan Turgenev

Ivan Sergeyevich Turgenev (Russian: Ива́н Серге́евич Турге́нев IPA: [ɪˈvan sʲɪrˈgʲeɪvʲɪtɕ turˈgʲenʲɪf]) (November 9 [O.S. October 28 1818 – September 3 [O.S. August 22] 1883) was a Russian novelist and playwright. His novel Fathers and Sons is regarded as one of the major works of 19th-century fiction.

Father and Sons (1862)
Translated by Richard Hare. Full text here

 * "Naturally," observed Nikolai Petrovich, "you were born here, so everything is bound to strike you with a special —" "Really, Daddy, it makes absolutely no difference where a person is born."  "Still —"  "No, it makes no difference at all."
 * Ch. 3.

 * "What is Bazarov?" Arkady smiled. "Would you like me to tell you, uncle, what he really is?" "Please do, nephew."  "He is a nihilist!"  "What?" asked Nikolai Petrovich, while Pavel Petrovich lifted his knife in the air with a small piece of butter on the tip and remained motionless.  "He is a nihilist," repeated Arkady.  "A nihilist," said Nikolai Petrovich. "That comes from the Latin nihil, nothing, as far as I can judge; the word must mean a man who... who recognizes nothing?"  "Say — who respects nothing," interposed Pavel Petrovich and lowered his knife with the butter on it.  "Who regards everything from the critical point of view," said Arkady.  "Isn't that exactly the same thing?" asked Pavel Petrovich.  "No, it's not the same thing. A nihilist is a person who does not bow down to any authority, who does not accept any principle on faith, however much that principle may be revered."  "Well, and is that good?" asked Pavel Petrovich. "That depends, uncle dear. For some it is good, for others very bad."  "Indeed. Well, I see that's not in our line. We old-fashioned people think that without principles, taken as you say on faith, one can't take a step or even breathe. Vous avez changé tout cela; may God grant you health and a general's rank, and we shall be content to look on and admire your... what was the name?"  "Nihilists," said Arkady, pronouncing very distinctly.  "Yes, there used to be Hegelists and now there are nihilists. We shall see how you will manage to exist in the empty airless void; and now ring, please, brother Nikolai, it's time for me to drink my cocoa."
 * Ch. 5.

 * "For myself, I detest the fellow, and think him a charlatan. I am certain that, in spite of his frogs, he is making no real progress in physics."
 * Ch. 10.

 * Bazarov drew himself up haughtily. "I don't adopt any one's ideas; I have my own."
 * Ch. 13.

 * Death is an old joke, but it comes like new to everyone.
 * Ch. 27. The original Russian goes Старая штука смерть, а каждому внове. Here, штука means piece or thing, whereas joke is шутка, possibly a mistranslation.

On the Eve (1860)
Translated by Constance Garnett. Full text here
 * 'There was a time,' Nikolai Artemyevitch resumed, 'when daughters did not allow themselves to look down on their parents—when the parental authority forced the disobedient to tremble. That time has passed, unhappily: so at least many persons imagine; but let me tell you, there are still laws which do not permit—do not permit—in fact there are still laws. I beg you to mark that: there are still laws——'
 * Ch. 30.

Quotes about him

 * The intellectuals of that time, while never so superficial as those I am talking about, indulged in revolutionary ideas, split hairs through the early morning hours, philosophized about all sorts of questions and carried their superior wisdom to the people with their feet deeply rooted in the old. Of course they failed. They were indignant with Turgenev and considered him a traitor to Russia. But he was right. Only when the Russian intellectuals completely broke with their traditions; only when they fully realized that society rests upon a lie, and that they must give themselves to the new completely and unreservedly, did they become a forceful factor in the life of the people. The Kropotkins, the Perovskayas, the Breshkovskayas, and hosts of others repudiated wealth and station and refused to serve King Mammon.
 * Emma Goldman "Intellectual Proletarians" (1914), after referencing Fathers and Sons

 * [H]is first important book, A Sportsman's Sketches, revealed to the world two things: the dawn of a new literary genius, and the wretched condition of the serfs. This book has often been called the Uncle Tom's Cabin of Russia; [...] It is interesting that Uncle Tom's Cabin and A Sportsman's Sketches should have appeared at about the same time, and that emancipation in each country should have followed at about the same interval...
 * William Lyon Phelps in Essays on Russian Novelists (1911), p. 65-66

 * Our author first made a name by his striking sketches "The Papers of a Sportsman" (Zapiski Okhotnika), in which the miserable condition of the peasants was described with startling realism. The work appeared in a collected form in 1852. It was read by all classes, including the emperor himself, and it undoubtedly hurried on the great work of emancipation.
 * Unquestionably Turgueniev may be considered one of the great novelists, worthy to be ranked with Thackeray, Dickens and George Eliot; with the genius of the last of these he has many affinities. His studies of human nature are profound, and he has the wide sympathies which are essential to genius of the highest order. A melancholy, almost pessimist, feeling pervades his writings, a morbid self-analysis which seems natural to the Slavonic mind. The closing chapter of “A Nest of Nobles” is one of the saddest and at the same time truest pages in the whole range of existing novels.
 * William Richard Morfill in Turgueniev, Ivan in 1911 Encyclopædia Britannica

title: Ivan Turgenev


text:
Joseph Goldstein

Joseph Goldstein (born 1944) is one of the first American vipassana teachers, co-founder of the Insight Meditation Society (IMS), contemporary author of numerous popular books on Buddhism, resident guiding teacher at IMS, and leader of retreats worldwide on insight (vipassana) and lovingkindness (metta) meditation.

Sourced

 * When we look back at our experience, we can see so clearly its ephemeral, dreamlike nature. Yet when we look ahead, when we look to the future, somehow (and this is the great enchantment) we get dazzled by all the possibilities that are there waiting for us as if the next event in our lives, the next situation, the next project, the next relationship, the next meal, even on meditation the next breath ... we live our lives in anticipation of the next hit of experience as if the one that's coming will finally do it for us. What's so strange is that nothing up 'til now has brought that sense of real completion or fulfillment. So why are we so seduced into thinking that the next one will? This is a very strange phenomena.
 * Wisdom and Compassion

 * The more we can be with our own difficulty, our own pain, the easier it is to be with the pain and difficulties of others.
 * Wisdom and Compassion

title: Joseph Goldstein


text:
Ryōkan

Ryōkan (1758–1831) was an eccentric Sōtō Zen Buddhist monk who lived in Echigo, Japan, as a hermit, most famous for his poetry and calligraphy.

 Careless Serenity

Whence has this life of mine arrived at its present abode and after its departure whereto is it destined to vanish

Seated below the sagebrush window of my cottage by myself, I meditated on these questions, mute in the dead of night

I searched my heart many times but the answers failed me

Neither the wherefrom nor the whereto of my life I know

Equally unknown to me is my life's existence here and now

For all the world is in a nimble flux and void therefore

I am suspended midair in the vacuity but for a twinkling

How am I supposed to know the subtlety of right and wrong

I must perforce receive what descends on me as my destiny, and live accordingly, while I may, with careless serenity

Quotes

nothing is better, nothing worse'''; The flowering branches are of themselves, some short, some long.
 * '''In the scenery of spring,
 * As translated in Haiku : Spring (1950) by Reginald Horace Blyth

We doze And talk of dreams —''' Dream, dream on, As much as you wish
 * '''In this dream world
 * As translated in Lust for Enlightenment : Buddhism and Sex (1990) by John Stevens, p. 28

The gloomy clouds''' Covering the mountaintop Otherwise, how will you Ever see the brightness?
 * '''You must rise above
 * As translated in Lust for Enlightenment : Buddhism and Sex (1990) by John Stevens, p. 117

the moon at my window.'''
 * '''The thief left it behind:
 * Written after a thief robbed his hut, as translated in The Enlightened Heart: An Anthology of Sacred Poetry (1993) by Stephen Mitchell, p. 162

Recalling my youth — '''Was it only a dream? Was I really young once?'''
 * Late at night, listening to the winter rain
 * As quoted in One Robe, One Bowl : The Zen Poetry of Ryōkan (2006) edited by John Stevens, p. 71

 * Cling to truth and it turns into falsehood. Understand falsehood and it turns into truth. Truth and falsehood are two sides of the same coin. Neither accept one nor reject the other.
 * As translated in 1,001 Pearls of Wisdom (2006) by David Ross, p. 36

I take a few phrases and they just turn into poems
 * Easily moved by beauty—such is my nature.
 * As translated in Great Fool: Zen Master Ryōkan; Poems, Letters, and Other Writings (1996) by Ryūichi Abé and Peter Haskel, p. 117

Dewdrops on a Lotus Leaf : Zen Poems of Ryokan (1993)

 * As translated by John Stevens

My poems are not poems. When you know that my poems are not poems, Then we can speak of poetry.''' Who says my poems are poems? My poems are not poems. After you know my poems are not poems, Then we can begin to discuss poetry!
 * '''Who says my poems are poems?
 * Variant translation:
 * "Zen Poetics of Ryokan" in Simply Haiku: A Quarterly Journal of Japanese Short Form Poetry (Summer 2006)

He models his work on the classic verse of China. And his poems are elegant, full of fine phrases. But if you don't write of things deep in your own heart, What's the use of churning out so many words?''' With gaudy words their lines are formed And further adorned by novel and curious phrases. Yet if they fail to express what is in their own minds What is the use, no matter How many poems they compose!
 * '''It's a pity, a gentleman in refined retirement composing poetry:
 * Variant translation:
 * "Zen Poetics of Ryokan" in Simply Haiku: A Quarterly Journal of Japanese Short Form Poetry (Summer 2006)

Enough fallen leaves To make a fire
 * The winds gives me

A fading Mountain echo Void and Unreal
 * This world

Zen Poetics of Ryokan (2006)

 * "Zen Poetics of Ryokan" in Simply Haiku: A Quarterly Journal of Japanese Short Form Poetry (Summer 2006)

 * When you encounter those who are wicked, unrighteous, foolish, dim-witted, deformed, vicious, chronically ill, lonely, unfortunate, or disabled, you should think: “How can I save them?” And even if there is nothing you can do, at least you must not indulge in feelings of arrogance, superiority, derision, scorn, or abhorrence, but should immediately manifest sympathy and compassion. If you fail to do so, you should feel ashamed and deeply reproach yourself: “How far I have strayed from the Way! How can I betray the old sages? I take these words as an admonition to myself.”

Never shouts at the tainted world: “Purify yourself!” But naturally, as it is, Shows how it is done.'''
 * '''The water of the valley stream

If you want to find the meaning, Stop chasing after so many things.'''
 * '''I have nothing to report, my friends.

Look for delusion and truth in the bottom of your own hearts.'''
 * '''Why do you so earnestly seek the truth in distant places?

And the path is hard to follow. Walking through the pines, I return to my lonely hut.
 * The village has disappeared in the evening mist

If your heart is pure, then all things in your world are pure. Abandon this fleeting world, abandon yourself, Then the moon and flowers will guide you along the Way.
 * The rain has stopped, the clouds have drifted away, and the weather is clear again.

title: Ryōkan


text:
Talk:James Hutton

We find no vestige of a b eginning - no prospect of an end

Theory of the Earth (1795) James Hutton

It is hard to believe that this insight is over 200 years old, supported over and over by scientific development but failure to apprecaie it is still the basis or world conflict

Unsourced

 * Attributed

 * What more can we require? Nothing but time.

title: Talk:James Hutton


text:
Savage Garden

 were an Australian pop duo consisting of Darren Hayes as vocalist and as instrumentalist. Formed in, , in 1993, the duo achieved international success in the late 1990s and early 2000s with the number-one hit singles "", "", "", "" and "". The band's two studio albums, ' and ' reached number one in Australia and peaked in the top ten in both the United Kingdom and United States. Their two studio albums have sold 23 million copies worldwide.

Truly Madly Deeply – Ultra Rare Tracks (1998)

 * Memories are to fade. Yeah, they´re designed that way. She doesn´t love you anymore, may be she did long ago.
 * Memories Are Designed to Fade

Asian Tour Package (1999)

 * Could you imagine Him hanging Piccadilly Circus Time Square, the Walk of Fame At Christie's He could easily become a regular
 * I'll Bet He Was Cool

Savage Garden (1997)

 * Mama never loved her much and daddy never keeps in touch, that´s why He shies away from human affection.
 * To the Moon and Back

Careless and free like animals I want to live I want to run through the jungle With wind in my hair and the sand at my feet
 * I want to live like animals
 * The Animal Song

 * Love is like a barren place. Reaching out for human faith is like a journey I just don´t have a map for.
 * To the Moon and Back

 * I want you, I don´t know if I need you, oh I´d die to find out!
 * I Want You

 * I´ll be your dream, I´ll be your wish, I´ll be your fantasy. I´ll be your hope, I´ll be your love, be everything that you need. I love you more with every breath truly madly deeply do. I´ll be be strong, I´ll be faithful, because I´m counting on a new beginning, a reason for living, a deeper meaning..
 * Truly Madly Deeply

 * I wanna stand with you on a mountain, I wanna bathe with you at the sea, I wanna lay like this forever, until the sky falls down on me.
 * Truly Madly Deeply

 * Just, break me, shake me, hate me, take me over, when the madness stops then you´ll be alone.
 * Break Me Shake Me

Affirmation (1999)

 * I believe you can´t control and choose your sexuality. I believe that trust is more important than monogamy.
 * Affirmation

 * I believe in Karma what you give is what you get returned. I believe you can´t appreciate real love til you´ve been burned. I believe the grass is no more greener on the other side, I believe you don´t know what you got until you say goodbye.
 * Affirmation

 * Give me a moment please to tame your wild wild heart. I know you feel like the walls are closing in on you. It´s hard to find relief and people can be so cold. When darkness is upon your door and it feels like you can´t take anymore.

 * Another ditch in the road, you keep moving. Another stopsign, you keep moving on. The years go by so fast. Wonder how I ever made it through.
 * Two Beds and a Coffee Machine

 * Keep on moving way up high, you see the light it shines forever. Sail through the crimson skies, the purest light. The light that sends you free... If time will sent you free.
 * You can still be free

 * I feel the magic around you, it´s bringing me to your knees like a wannabe, I´ve got to be chained to you.
 * Chained to you

 * I knew I loved you before I met you I think I dreamed you into life..

 * Like in your eyes I see my future in an instant and ther it goes I think I´ve found my best friend.
 * I knew I loved you

title: Savage Garden


text:
Talk:The Great Gatsby

quotes by topic
What role do women play in The Great Gatsby? special:contribs/210.9.137.101 07:49, 19 March 2007 (UTC)
 * Read the prolouge and epiloge of the Scribner edition. Quatreryukami 16:54, 7 February 2008 (UTC)

public domain day
already a thorough quote page, but anyway the status changed. Arlo Barnes (talk) 21:21, 31 December 2020 (UTC)

title: Talk:The Great Gatsby


text:
Talk:Ivan Turgenev

Article in need of repair
These dialogues are presented as if they were from a play, when in fact they are conversations in a novel. The quotes should be restored to the way in which they actually appear in the book. It would also be better to create a page for Turgenev by moving this article. - InvisibleSun 09:37, 19 March 2007 (UTC)
 * Not neccessarily, I'm going to try to finish adding the quotes I selected to add to this page by next week. The Ivan Turgenev page should have quotes by him, or on him; I think the novel Fathers and Sons is too large to be redirected to the author's page. I'll work on the formatting. Zidel333 17:38, 19 March 2007 (UTC)
 * I've moved the page from Father and Sons to Ivan Turgenev. The quotes were restored as they exist in the novel.  The Wikisource translation  was used. - InvisibleSun 16:28, 28 June 2008 (UTC)

title: Talk:Ivan Turgenev


text:
Genesis P-Orridge

Genesis P-Orridge (born Neil Andrew Megson on February 22, 1950) is an English performer, musician, writer and artist.

Quotes

 * An exact science is one that admits loss.
 * The German Order

 * After thee accumulation of too much history we have lost our innocence, we cannot easily believe in any explanations. We describe rather than feel, we touch rather than explore, we lust rather than adore.
 * Thee Reversal of Fate

 * The bottom line is that the human species has to realize the human body really is just a cheap suitcase.
 * As quoted in Believer Magazine "Douglas Rushkoff in conversation with Genesis Breyer P-Orridge”.

 * ... used to be the fight for the means of production, now it's the fight for the means of perception ... or the meme's of perception ... they who control the meme's of perception design each universe I would say
 * In conversation with Douglas Rushkoff, 1993 (From Rushkoff's Team Human podcast)

 * The whole planet is the museum!
 * Speaking with Douglas Rushkoff (Arthur No. 2 c.Jan 2003)

title: Genesis P-Orridge


text:
User:Byassine

ar:مستخدم:Byassine de:Benutzer:Byassine en:User:Byassine es:Usuario:Byassine fr:Utilisateur:Byassine ja:利用者:Byassine simple:User:Byassine

title: User:Byassine


text:
Francis Maitland Balfour

Francis Maitland Balfour (November 10, 1851 – July 19, 1882) was a British biologist.

Sourced

 * [Why do animals] undergo in the course of their growth a series of complicated changes, during which they acquire organs which have no function, and which, after remaining visible for a short time, disappear without leaving a trace . . . The explanation of such facts is obvious. The stage when the tadpole breathes by gills is a repetition of the stage when the ancestors of the frog had not advanced in the scale of development beyond a fish.
 * Comparative Embryology, p. 702. (1880)

title: Francis Maitland Balfour