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"Someday, and even now, especially in the countries of Northern Europe, trustworthy sights are already speaking out and shining, someday there will be girls and women whose name will no longer mean the mere opposite of the male, but something in itself, something that makes one think not of any complement and limit, but only of life and reality: the female human being." Rilke wrote this nearly 110 years ago.

"Rome makes one feel stifled with sadness for the first few days: through the gloomy and lifeless museum atmosphere that it exhales, through the abundance of its pasts (pasts on which a tiny present subsists), through the terrible overvaluing, sustained by scholars and philologist and imitated by the tourist, of all those disfigured and decaying Things, which are nothing more than accidental remains from another time

"Finally, as to my own books, I wish I could send you any of them that might give you pleasure. But I am very poor, and my books, as soon as they are published, no longer belong to me. I can't even afford them myself and, as I would so often like to, give them to those who would be kind to them."

"In this there is no measuring of time, a year doesn't matter, and ten years are nothing. Being an artist means: not numbering and counting, but ripening like a tree which doesn't force it's sap, and stands confidently in the storms of spring, not afraid that afterward summer may not come. It does come. But it comes only to those who are patient, who are there as if eternity lay before them, so unconcernedly silent."