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Quote by Caroline Schmitt

“Als Esther wieder im Auto saß hatte er ihr einen längeren Text gesendet; 'Über die Geduld' von Rainer Maria Rilke Man muss Geduld haben Mit dem Ungelösten im Herzen und versuchen, die Fragen selber lieb zu haben, wie verschlossene Stuben, und wie Bücher, die in einer sehr fremden Sprache geschrieben sind. Es handelt sich darum, alles zu leben. Wenn man Fragen lebt, lebt man vielleicht allmählich, ohne es zu merken, eines fremden Tages, in die Antworten hinein.”

Quote by Caroline Schmitt

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Monstergott

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Caroline Schmitt

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“My love has gone across the sea To find a country far and fair He sailed into the gilded west And lo, my heart will never rest Until my love returns to me Or I set out to find him there. Come home, come home! I sing to thee My love, come home and rest thy head I'll watch for you the winter long And sing for you a summer song And if you can't return to me Then I will sail to you instead Through tow'ring wave and shriek of gale I'll aim my vessel ever west And steer it by the cord that bound My heart to yours, until you're found And should you find my body pale And wrecked upon the loamy shale Rejoice, my love, and call me blessed! In death, my love, I loved you best”

“Life's funny like that." "A laugh a minute." She put on Danny Boy so I could sing it again. But if you fall as all flowers'er dying, And you are, as dead you well may be, I'll come and find the place where you are lying, And kneel and say an ave there for thee. but come ye back when summer's in― The second time through made me terribly sad. "send me letters from wherever it is you're going," she said, touching me.”

“Can you imagine a longing which is not for victory but the face of night, where the moon is aching to light the sky? What if a real thirst is not for the prize to be won, but for the song of night, when lovers whisper to one another's ears? What if, it is a longing for a language that the rivers speak to the sea? What if, joy is not in the conquest but in the quiet unfolding of a greater mystery? What if, a desire is not for the pleasures, but for knowing, how flowers give more of them, emptying them of every scent, only to be filled with the joy of giving? What if, the only longing is to know how waves come home to the shores, and write the story of the sea? How lovers rest in one another's eyes, to melt in the gaze of eternity?”

“Opera has the power to warn you that you have wasted your life. You haven't acted on your desires. You've suffered a stunted, vicarious existence. You've silenced your passions. The volume, height, depth, lushness, and excess of operatic utterance reveal, by contrast, how small your gestures have been until now, how impoverished your physicality; you have only used a fraction of your bodily endowment, and your throat is closed.”