Me, Polly Garter, under the washing line, giving the breast in the garden to my bonny new baby. Nothing grows in our garden, only washing. And babies. And where's their fathers live, my love? Over the hills and far away. You're looking up at me now. I know what you're thinking, you poor little milky creature. You're thinking, you're no better than you should be, Polly, and that's good enough for me. Oh, isn't life a terrible thing, thank God?
Interpretation
This quote reflects on the simplicity and challenges of life, highlighting the contrasting elements of motherhood and existential contemplation.
In this evocative quote, Dylan Thomas captures a moment of maternal nurturing amidst the mundanity of daily life, symbolized by the washing line and the garden that yields only domestic responsibilities. The speaker addresses the complexity of existence, recognizing both the beauty and sorrow intertwined within the experience of raising a child, while pondering the absence of fathers and the inherent struggles of life. It suggests an acceptance of life's imperfections and a sense of gratitude for its simple joys.
In practice
In a speech about the joys and struggles of parenting, one might use this quote to illustrate the complex emotions that come with raising children.
And death shall have no dominion. Under the windings of the sea They lying long shall not die windily; Twisting on racks when sinews give way, Strapped to a wheel, yet they shall not break; Faith in their hands shall snap in two, And the unicorn evils run them through; Split all ends up they shan't crack; And death shall have no dominion.
Whatever talents I possess may suddenly diminish or suddenly increase. I can with ease become an ordinary fool. I may be one now. But it doesn't do to upset one's own vanity.
And when the firemen turned off the hose and were standing in the wet, smoky room, Jim's Aunt, Miss. Prothero, came downstairs and peered in at them. Jim and I waited, very quietly, to hear what she would say to them. She said the right thing, always. She looked at the three tall firemen in their shining helmets, standing among the smoke and cinders and dissolving snowballs, and she said, "Would you like anything to read?
Especially when the October wind With frosty fingers punishes my hair, Caught by the crabbing sun I walk on fire And cast a shadow crab upon the land, By the sea's side, hearing the noise of birds, Hearing the raven cough in winter sticks, My busy heart who shudders as she talks Sheds the syllabic blood and drains her words.
My tears are like the quiet drift of petals from some magic rose; and all my grief flows from the rift of unremembered skies and snows. I think that if I touched the earth, it would crumble; it is so sad and beautiful, so tremulously like a dream.
When one burns one's bridges, what a very nice fire it makes.
I don't know what to do. I only know that it's taken me years to understand that life was pushing me in a direction I didn't want to go in.
Life shoould be touched, not strangled. You've got to relax, let it happen at times, and at other move forward with it.
What can we do but keep on breathing in and out, modest and willing, and in our places?
Come, come, come. Without a monster or two it's not a quest, merely a gaggle of friends wandering about.
I say that is wine," Brett held up her glass. "We ought to toast something. 'Here's to royalty.'" "This wine is too good for toast-drinking, my dear. you don't want to mix emotions up with a wine like that. you lose the taste." Brett's glass was empty.
If you want to be unhappy, uncomfortable, and insecure, just spend your life trying to do something that is not right for you. It is just like trying to wear shoes that don't fit.
Subscribe for the occasional hand-picked quote. No noise.