Extravagances.

Mønsted, Gastein, 1912

Nowhere, Beloved, will world be but within us. Our life passes in transformation. And the external shrinks into less and less. Where once an enduring house was, now a cerebral structure crosses our path, completely belonging to the realm of concepts, as though it still stood in the brain. Our age has built itself vast reservoirs of power, formless as the straining energy that it wrests from the earth. Temples are no longer known. It is we who secretly save up these extravagances of the heart. Where one of them still survives, a Thing that was formerly prayed to, worshipped, knelt before -- just as it is, it passes into the invisible world. Many no longer perceive it, yet miss the chance. To build it inside themselves now, with pillars and statues: greater.

Rainer Maria Rilke