God speaks to each of us as he makes us, then walks with us silently out of the night. These are the words we dimly hear: You, sent out beyond your r….

The creator must be a world for himself and must find everything in himself and in Nature, to whom his whole life is devoted..

only someone who is ready for everything, who doesn't exclude any experience, even the most incomprehensible, will live the relationship with another….

And you should not let yourself be confused in your solitude by the fact that there is something in you that wants to move out of it..

We wasters of sorrows! How we stare away into sad endurance beyond them, trying to foresee their end! Whereas they are nothing else than our winter f….

Be out of sync with your times for just one day, and you will see how much eternity you contain within you..

Girls, there are poets who learn from you to say, what you, in your aloneness, are; and they learn through you to live distantness, as the evenings t….

Losing too is still ours; and even forgetting still has a shape in the kingdom of transformation. When something's let go of, it circles; and though ….

Oh longing for places that were not Cherished enough in that fleeting hour How I long to make good from afar The forgotten gesture, the additional ac….

Perhaps the great renewal of the world will consist of this, that man and woman, freed of all confused feelings and desires, shall no longer seek eac….

Weren't you always distracted by expectation, as if every event announced a beloved? (Where can you find a place to keep her, with all the huge stran….

What batters you becomes your strength..

Perhaps the same bird echoed through both of us yesterday, seperate, in the evening..

Whoever now makes himself bigger, freer and more human in his own existence, is doing his part toward peace, — as yet it must be worked at in an inwa….

If there is nothing you can share with other people, try to be close to Things, they will not abandon you; and the nights are still here and the wind….

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..

The moments when something new has entered us, something unknown; our feelings grow mute in shy embarrassment, everything in us withdraws, a silence ….

Dig deep into your heart, where the answer spreads its roots in your being, and ask yourself solemnly, Must I write?.

No one can advise or help you - no one. There is only one thing you should do. Go into yourself. Search for the reason that bids you write, find out ….

I want to love the things as no one has thought to love them..

Be forever dead in Eurydice-more gladly arise into the seamless life proclaimed in your song. Here, in the realm of decline, among momentary days, be….