It is easy enough to praise men for the courage of their convictions. I wish I could teach the sad young of this mealy generation the courage of their confusions.
Interpretation
The quote emphasizes the value of embracing and understanding one's uncertainties rather than only celebrating clear convictions.
In this quote, John Ciardi reflects on the complexities of human beliefs and the importance of recognizing and accepting confusion as a part of personal growth. He expresses a desire to teach younger generations to have the courage to navigate their uncertainties, as opposed to merely applauding the confidence of those who hold strong, unwavering beliefs. This highlights a more nuanced understanding of courage that encompasses facing and questioning one's doubts.
In practice
During a motivational speech for graduates, this quote could be used to encourage them to embrace their uncertainties as they step into adulthood.
If a man means his writing seriously, he must mean to write well. But how can he write well until he learns to see what he has written badly. His progress toward good writing and his recognition of bad writing are bound to unfold at something like the same rate.
We do not despise all those who have vices, but we do despise those that have no virtue.
The most melancholy of human reflections, perhaps, is that, on the whole, it is a question whether the benevolence of mankind does most good or harm.
The myth of integration as propounded under the banner of the liberal ideology must be cracked because it makes people believe that something is being achieved when in reality the artificially integrated circles are a soporfic to the blacks while salving the consciences of the few guilt-stricken whites.
I sat in the gradually chilling room, thinking of my whole past the way a drowning man is supposed to, and it seemed part of the present, part of the gray cold and the beggar woman without a face and the moulting birds frozen to their own filth in the Orangerie. I know now I was in the throes of some small glandular crisis, a sublimated bilious attack, a flick from the whip of melancholia, but then it was terrifying...nameless...
I am the truth, since I am part of what is real, but neither more nor less than those around me.
Plots are artificial. Does your life have a plot? It has characters. There is a narrative. There's a lot of story, a lot of character. But plot? Eh, no.
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