Strange to no longer desire one's desires. Strange
to see meanings that clung together once, floating away
in every direction.
but, of course, Rilke is talking about a purely spiritual yielding, a death and a giving up of all human custom. Wittgenstein would have us yield to his non-philosophy, to give up the human philosophical custom. Does this release entail a release of wonder or inquiry? But a child wonders and inquires.
To link philosophy with love: Plato's case in the Symposium. But can philosophical inquiry be done while giving up this most unfulfilling relationship?
Shouldn't this most ancient of sufferings finally growA lover is a blanket, which we use to hide our cold emptiness from others and ourselves. Can we not give up the notion of terrestrial love and be called--yield--to something much higher?
most fruitful for us? Isn't it time that we lovingly
freed ourselves from the beloved and, quivering, endured:
as the arrow endures the bowstring's tension, so that
gathered in the snap of release it can be more than
itself. For there is no place where we can remain.