Everything Is Chance, Or Nothing

Thinking Gets You Nowhere. It May Be A Fine And Noble Aid In Academic Studies, But You Can't Think Your Way Out Of Emotional Difficulties. That Takes Something Altogether Different. You Have To Make Yourself Passive Then, And Just Listen. Re-establish Contact With A Slice Of Eternity.

Most People Write Off Their Longing For Friends And Family As So Many Losses In Their Lives, When They Should Count The Fact That Their Heart Is Able To Long So Hard And To Love So Much As Among Their Greatest Blessings.

I Don't Think I Have Nerves Of Steel, Far From It, But I Can Certainly Stand Up To Things. I Am Not Afraid To Look Suffering Straight In The Eyes.

We Have To Fight Them Daily, Like Fleas, Those Many Small Worries About The Morrow, For They Sap Our Energies. We Make Mental Provisions For The Days To Come, And Everything Turns Out Differently, Quite Differently. Sufficient Unto The Day. The Things That Have To Be Done Must Be Done, And For The Rest We Must Not Allow Ourselves To Become Infested With Thousands Of Petty Fears And Worries.

Slowly But Surely I Have Been Soaking Rilke Up These Last Few Months: The Man, His Work And His Life. And That Is Probably The Only Right Way With Literature, With Study, With People Or With Anything Else: To Let It All Soak In, To Let It All Mature Slowly Inside You Until It Has Become A Part Of Yourself. That, Too, Is A Growing Process. Everything Is A Growing Process. And In Between, Emotions And Sensations That Strike You Like Lightning. But Still The Most Important Thing Is The Organic Process Of Growing.