Our true face never speaks.
Somewhere there must be storehouses
where all these lives are laid away
like suits of armor or old carriages
or clothes hanging limply on the walls.
Somewhere there must be storehouses
where all these lives are laid away
like suits of armor or old carriages
or clothes hanging limply on the walls.
Maybe all paths lead there,
to the repository of unlived things.
to the repository of unlived things.
-Rainer Maria Rilke, from The Book of Pilgrimage in Rilke’s Book of Hours
Image: Found
