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
Pain wanders through my bones like a lost fire
Interpretation
This quote expresses the lingering and pervasive nature of emotional or physical pain.
The metaphor of pain wandering through one's bones suggests a deep-seated and almost existential experience of suffering. The imagery of a 'lost fire' conveys a sense of intensity and urgency, hinting that this pain, while ever-present, may not have a clear source or resolution, reflecting how pain can shape one's existence in a silent but profound way.
In practice
In a discussion about the impact of trauma on life experiences, one might reference this quote to emphasize the pervasive nature of pain.
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.
My 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.
Art is our defense against hysteria and death.
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.
By daily dying, I have come to be.
The stones were sharp, The wind came at my back; Walking along the highway, Mincing like a cat.
If we begin to get in touch with whatever we feel with some kind of kindness, our protective shells will melt, and we'll find that more areas of our lives are workable. AS we learn to have compassion for ourselves, the circle of compassion for others-what and whom we can work with, and how-becomes wider.
Look for the blessing in all situations.
Whatever makes you weird is probably your greatest asset.
When you love a problem, its contours, obstacles and resistances are all just part of its character.
Appreciation is a wonderful thing: It makes what is excellent in others belong to us as well.
Labour may be a burden and a chastisement, but it is also an honour and a glory. Without it, nothing can be accomplished.
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