The "Article of the Day" is on Rainer Maria Rilke. It made me revisit how much I enjoy his writings. His focus on belief in the age of disbelief is particularly fascinating to me.
"There are quantities of human faces, but there are many more faces, for each person has several."
Only God And yet, though we strain against the deadening grip of daily necessity, I sense there is this mystery: All life is being lived. Who is living it, then? Is it the things themselves or something waiting inside them, like an unplayed melody in a flute? Is it the winds blowing over the waters? Is it the branches that signal to each other? Is it flowers interweaving their fragrances or streets, as they wind through time? Who lives it, then? God, are you the one who is living life? Rainer Maria Rilke Rilke's Book of Hours
