Deeply, he felt the love for the run-away in his heart, like a wound, and he felt at the same time that this wound had not been given to him in order to turn the knife in it, that it had to become a blossom and had to shine. , the wound was not blossoming… Continue reading Hermann Hesse
Solitude gives birth to the original in us, to beauty unfamiliar and perilous – to poetry. But also, it gives birth to the opposite: to the perverse, the illicit, the absurd. ― Thomas Mann, Death in Venice and Other Tales. (Penguin Classics, May 1, 1999) Originally published 1911.
The deep parts of my life pour onward, as if the river shores were opening out. It seems that things are more like me now, that I can see farther into paintings. I feel closer to what language can’t reach. With my sense, as with birds, I climb into the windy heaven, out of the… Continue reading Rainer Maria Rilke
To think is to confine yourself to a single thought that one day stands still like a star in the world’s sky. — Martin Heidegger, “The Thinker As Poet,” Poetry, Language, Thought. (Harper Perennial Modern Classics; Later Printing Used edition, December 3, 2013)
By the way, do you know the joys of being alone, walking alone, lying in the sun alone? Which doesn’t mean I have anything against doing things in twos, and not much against doing them in threes. But what a joy it is for the tormented, for heart and head! Do you know what I… Continue reading Franz Kafka
No permanence is ours; we are a wave That flows to fit whatever form it finds: Through day or night, cathedral or the cave We pass forever, craving form that binds. – Hermann Hesse, from “Lament,” The Glass Bead Game: A Novel. (Picador; First edition, December 6, 2002) Originally published 1943.
Move through transformation, out and in. What is the deepest loss that you have suffered? If drinking is bitter, change yourself to wine. In this immeasurable darkness, be the power that rounds your senses in their magic ring, the sense of their mysterious encounter. And if the earthly no longer knows your name, whisper to… Continue reading Rainer Maria Rilke