"Dying is strange and hard
if it is not our death, but a death
that takes us by storm, when we’ve ripened none within us."
if it is not our death, but a death
that takes us by storm, when we’ve ripened none within us."
— Rainer Maria Rilke, from The Book of Hours, III, 8, trans. Anita Barrows and Joanna Macy (via fuckyeahrainermariarilke)