Rainer Maria Rilke citáty

strana 6

32 citátů plných hluboké moudrosti a inspirace pro život

„Vůle má malý význam, stěžování si a sláva nic neznamenají. Otevřenost, trpělivost, vnímavost a samota jsou všechno.“

„V lásce potřebujeme praktikovat pouze toto: nechat druhého odejít. Protože držet se někoho je snadné; tomu se už nemusíme učit.“

„Ach, jak je dobré být mezi lidmi, kteří čtou.“

„Protože milovat druhou lidskou bytost je možno ten nejtěžší úkol ze všech. Je to ten nejpodstatnější úkol. Je to práce, při níž všechny ostatní práce se zdají být pouze přípravou.“

„Práce očí je hotová. Nyní jděte a pracujte na obrázcích, které jsou uzamčeny ve vašem srdci.“

„V dobrém manželství si partneři střeží svou samotu. Jakmile si uvědomí, že i mezi nejbližšími bytostmi stále existuje nekonečná vzdálenost, může z toho postupně vzejít nádherný společný život. Stačí, když budou milovat vzdálenost, která mezi nimi zůstává a která umožňuje, aby na pozadí širokého nebe… Vnímali druhého jako celého člověka.“

„Láska se skládá z toho, že dva osamělí se ochraňují, dotýkají se a spolu se baví.“

„Aby jedna lidská bytost milovala tu druhou, je zřejmě nejtěžší úkol ze všech. Všechno ostatní je pouhá příprava.“

„Smyslem života je být poražen většími a většími věcmi.“

„Každý den je začátkem života.“

„Tvůrčí život je vlastně tak blízký sexuálnímu životu, jeho bolestem i rozkošem, že jsou to jen dva póly jedné a téže věci, jednoho a téhož požitku.“

„Pohleď, vždyť žiji. Z čeho? Ani dětství ani budoucna
mi neubývá..... Přemíra bytí
tryská mi ze srdce.“

„Nehledejte odpovědi, které vám nyní nemohou být dány, protože byste je nemohli žít... jde o to, abyste žili všechno. Teď žijte otázkami. Možná pak někdy v daleké budoucnosti postupně, aniž byste si toho všimli, prožijete odpověď.“

„Je dobré být sám, neboť samota je těžká: to, že je něco těžké, pro nás musí být o důvod víc, abychom to udělali.“

„Sláva je souhrnem nedorozumění, která se nakupí kolem jména.“

„Jediná cesta je ta ve vlastním nitru.“

„Připadá-li ti tvůj všední den ubohým, nestěžuj si na něj. Stěžuj si na sebe, že nejsi dost silný, abys přivolal svá bohatství. Tvořivému člověku není nic nuzné, ani žádné místo ubohé a lhostejné.“

„Všichni zemřeme na vlastní smrt.“

„Třetí ve hře je ten, co není.“

„Nejviditelnější štěstí se nám dává poznat až v okamžiku, kdy je přijmeme do svého nitra.“

„Chudoba je velká záře z nitra.“

„Udržet své vnitřní vědomí čisté a vědět, zda jsme schopni převzít zodpovědnost za své tvůrčí zkušenosti, tak jak existují ve své pravdivosti a absolutnosti: to je základ každého umění….“

„Je to jako se zrcadlem, člověk nic nechápe, je pouze vtažen do tajemství jeho nepostižitelnosti. Celý den má hlavu plnou představ, ale ani jedinou nedokáže podepřít důkazy. Benátky jsou záležitost víry.“

„Cokoliv se Ti stane, krása nebo hrůza, Prostě jdi dál...žádný pocit není konečný.“

„A teď přivítáme nový rok. Plný věcí, které se ještě nestaly.“

„Zjistěte důvod, který přikazuje, abyste začali psát. Zjistěte, zda rozšířil své kořeny do hloubky vašeho srdce; a přiznejte si a přijměte, že byste museli zemřít, kdyby vám někdo zakázal psát.“

„Považuji to za nejvyšší povinnost pouta mezi dvěma lidmi: každý z nich by měl hlídat samotu toho druhého.“

„Chci být s těmi, kdo znají tajné věci, jinak budu sám.“

„Opět je tu jaro. Země je jako dítě, které zná básničky nazpaměť.“

“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?”

“Death is the side of life which is turned away from us.”

“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.”

“He was a poet and hated the approximate.”

“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.”

“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.”

“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.”

“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.”

“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.”

“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.”

“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.”

“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.”

“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.”

“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.”

“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.”

“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.”

“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.”

“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.”

“I could give you no advice but this: to go into yourself and to explore the depths where your life wells forth.”

“They more adeptly bend the willow's branches
who have experience of the willow's roots.”

“Lord: it is time. The summer was immense.
Let thine shadows upon the sundials fall,
and unleash the winds upon the open fields.”

“Everywhere I am folded, there I am a lie.”

“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.”

“A thought struck me abruptly: My God, you do exist, then. There are proofs of Your existence. I had forgotten them all, and never demanded any either, for what an overwhelming obligation would come with this certainty. And yet that is what is now being shown to me.”

“Don’t search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them … 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.”