mythologyofblue:

Often he leans back and closes his eyes over a line he has been reading again, and its meaning spreads through his blood.

-Rilke, The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge, translated by Stephen Mitchell

"Lost really has to disparate meanings. Losing things is about the familiar falling away, getting lost is about the unfamiliar appearing. There are objects and people that disappear from your sight or knowledge or possession; you lose a bracelet, a friend, the key. You still know where you are. Everything is familiar except that there is one item less, one missing element. Or you get lost, in which case the world has become larger than your knowledge of it. Either way, there is a loss of control."

mythologyofblue:

There was nothing but my solitude. The solitude which I had brought upon myself and which had become too vast for my heart to take in.

[It is true that we don’t know it, but aren’t we most ignorant about what is most our own?]

-Rilke, The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge