...(B)e patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves.
There is much beauty here, because there is much beauty everywhere.
Think of the world you carry within you (...) What goes on in your innermost being is worthy of your whole love.
And to speak of solitude again, it becomes always clearer that this is at bottom not something that one can take or leave. We are solitary.
When we hold still we are, through a happy mimicry, scarcely to be distinguished from all that surrounds us. We have no reason to mistrust our world, for it is not against us. Has it terrors, they are our terrors; has it abysses, those abysses belong to us.
So you must not be frightened, if a sadness rises up before you larger than any oyou have ever seen; if a resitveness, like light and cloud-shadows, passes over your hands and over all you do. You must htink that something is happening with oyu, that likfe has not forgotten you, that it holds you in its hand; it wil not let you fall. Why do you want to shut out of your life any agitation, any pain, any melancholy, since you really do not know what these states are working upon you? Why do you want to persecut eyourself with the question whence all this may be coming and whither it is bound? Since you know that you are in the midst of transitions and wished for nothign so much as to change. (...) Do not observe yourself too much. Do not draw too hasty conclusions from what happens to you; let it simply happen to you. Otherwise you will too easily look with reproach (that is, morally) upon your past, which naturally has its share in all that you are now meeting. (...) And the expenditture of energy seems to you so great only because you overvalue victory; it is not the victory that is the "great thing" you think to have done, although you are right in your feeling; the great thing is that there was already something there which you could put in the place of that delustion, something true and real.
And if there is one thing more that I must say to you, it is this: Do not belive that he who seeks to comfort you lives untroubled among teh simple and quiet words that sometimes do you good. His life has much difficulty and sadness and remains far behind yours. Were it otherwise he would never have been able to find these words.
What I could say about your tendency to doubt or about your inability to bring outer and inner life into unison, or about all the other things that worry you--: it is always what I have already said: always the wish that you may find patience enough in yourself to endure, and simplicity enough to believe, that you may acquire more and more confidence in that which is difficult, adn in your solitude among others. And for the rest, let life happen to you. Believe me: life is right, in any case.
And about emotions: all emotions are pure whcich gather you you and lift you up. (...) Everything that makes more of you than you have heretofore been in your best hours, is right. Every heightening is good if it is in your whole blood, if it is not intoxication, not turbidity, but joy which one can see clear to the bottom. (...)
And your doubt may become a good quality if you train it. It must become knowing, it must become critical. Ask it, whenever it wants to spoil something for you, why something is ugly, demand proofs from it, test it, and you will find it perplexed and embarrassed perhaps, or perhaps rebellious. But don't give in, insist on arguments and act this way, watchful and consistent, every time, and the day will arrive when from a destroyer it will become one of your best workers-- perhaps the cleverest of all that are building your life.
Plans bear no fruit.
(From a letter to Clara- )
Life has unending possibliities of renewal. (And) teh using of strength in a certain sense is always incresae of strength, also; for fundamentally we have to do only with a wide cycle: all strength taht we give away comes over us again, experienced and altered. Thus it is in prayer. And what is there, truly done, that is not prayer?