| (Note:
I don't remember where I first read this. All I
know is that I had it pinned to my study wall for
a long time back when I was spending a lot more
time fantasising about being a published writer
than I do now. I think it's a great source of
motivation when there's not a great deal of
inspiration. J.R.) You ask me whether your verses are
good... You have asked others before. You send
them to magazines. You compare them with other
poems, and you are disturbed when certain editors
reject your efforts. Now... I beg of you to give
up all that. You are looking outward and that
above all you should not do now. Nobody can
counsel and help you. Nobody. There is only one
single way. Go into yourself. Search for the
reason that bids you write; find out whether it
is spreading out its roots in the deepest places
of your heart, acknowledge to yourself whether
you would have to die if it were denied you to
write. This above all - ask yourself in the
stillest hour of your night: must I write? Delve
into yourself for a deep answer. And if this
should be affirmative, if you may meet this
earnest question with a strong and simple 'I must',
then build your life according to this necessity;
your life even into its most indifferent and
slightest hour must be a sign of this urge and a
testimony to it...
Perhaps it
will turn out that you are called upon to be an
artist. Then take that destiny upon you and bear
it, its burden and its greatness, without ever
asking what recompense might come from outside.
For the creator must be a world for himself and
find everything in himself and in nature to whom
he has attached himself...
Rainer
Maria Rilke
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