It confuses us, we for whom being means
to live only, always, from images;
sometimes we want to grab wildly
at realities, draw them inside us -
pieces, things we can feel with our hands, that which is
- R. M. Rilke
(via)
It confuses us, we for whom being means
to live only, always, from images;
sometimes we want to grab wildly
at realities, draw them inside us -
pieces, things we can feel with our hands, that which is
- R. M. Rilke
(via)
