And what a congress of stinks!- Roots ripe as old bait, Pulpy stems, rank, silo-rich, Leaf mold, manure, lime, piled against slippery planks, Nothing would give up life: Even the dirt kept breathing a small breath.
Theodore RoethkeRead
Art is our defense against hysteria and death.
Interpretation
What this quote means
Art serves as a means to cope with deep emotional struggles and the inevitability of death.
In this quote, Theodore Roethke suggests that art plays a crucial role in helping humanity to confront and make sense of the chaos and emotional turmoil in life. By engaging with art, individuals can find a form of solace and expression that counters feelings of hysteria and the existential dread associated with mortality.
Themes
ArtDefenseHysteriaDeathEmotionalConnection
In practice
Example use cases
In a discussion about the role of creativity in mental health, this quote can highlight the importance of art.
More from Theodore Roethke
All quotes βMy Papa's Waltz: The whiskey on your breath Could make a small boy dizzy; But I hung on like death: Such waltzing was not easy. We romped until the pans Slid from the kitchen shelf; My mother's countenance Could not unfrown itself. The hand that held my wrist Was battered on one knuckle; At every step you missed My right ear scraped a buckle. You beat time on my head With a palm caked hard by dirt, Then waltzed me off to bed Still clinging to your shirt.
Theodore RoethkeRead
The indignity of it!-_x000D_ _x000D_ With everything blooming above me,_x000D_ _x000D_ Lilies, pale-pink cyclamen, roses,_x000D_ _x000D_ Whole fields lovely and inviolate,-_x000D_ _x000D_ Me down in the fetor of weeds,_x000D_ _x000D_ Crawling on all fours,_x000D_ _x000D_ Alive, in a slippery grave.
Theodore RoethkeRead
By daily dying, I have come to be.
Theodore RoethkeRead
The stones were sharp, The wind came at my back; Walking along the highway, Mincing like a cat.
Theodore RoethkeRead
The self says, I am; The heart says, I am less; The spirit says, you are Nothing.
Theodore RoethkeRead
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