therefore, dear sir, love your solitude and try to sing out with the pain it causes you.

things aren't all so tangible and sayable as people would usually have us believe, most experiences are unsayable, they happen in a space that no word has ever entered, and more unsayable than all the things are works of art, those mysterious existences, whose life endures beside our own small, transitory life.

~rilke, letters to a young poet