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
I learned not to fear infinity, The far field, the windy cliffs of forever, The dying of time in the white light of tomorrow, The wheel turning away from itself, The sprawl of the wave, The on-coming water.
Interpretation
What this quote means
This quote suggests embracing the vastness and uncertainty of existence rather than fearing it.
In this quote, Theodore Roethke reflects on the concept of infinity and the cyclical nature of life. He encourages an acceptance of the mysteries of time and existence, portraying a sense of wonder in the face of the unknown. Instead of being afraid of what lies beyond our understanding, he advocates for a curious engagement with life's transitions and complexities, which can lead to a deeper appreciation of our journey through time.
Themes
InfinityFearTimeExistenceWonder
In practice
Example use cases
In a motivational speech about embracing change and uncertainty.
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
Art is our defense against hysteria and death.
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
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