Monday, June 18, 2012

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 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.

from Letters to a Young Poet by Rainer Maria Rilke (translated by S. Mitchell)

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