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How body from spirit slowly does unwind, until we are pure spirit at the end.
Theodore Roethke
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Theodore Roethke
Age: 55 †
Born: 1908
Born: May 25
Died: 1963
Died: August 1
Poet
Teacher
Writer
Saginaw
Michigan
Body
Unwind
Slowly
Pure
Spirit
Ends
Doe
More quotes by Theodore Roethke
In a dark time, the eye begins to see / I meet my shadow in the deepening shade...Dark, dark my light, and darker my desire.
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I came to love, I came into my own.
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What is madness but nobility of soul at odds with circumstance?
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The stones were sharp, The wind came at my back Walking along the highway, Mincing like a cat.
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What falls away is always. And is near.
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Love is not love until love's vulnerable.
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The self says, I am The heart says, I am less The spirit says, you are Nothing.
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Live in a perpetual great astonishment.
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Who rise from flesh to spirit know the fall: The word outleaps the world, and light is all.
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Fear was my father, Father Fear. His look drained the stones.
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So much of adolescence is an ill-defined dying, An intolerable waiting, A longing for another place and time, Another condition.
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I am overwhelmed by the beautiful disorder of poetry, the eternal virginity of words.
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Reason? That dreary shed, that hutch for grubby schoolboys.
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And soon a branch, part of a hidden scene,The leafy mind, that long was tightly furled,Will turn its private substance into green,And young shoots spread upon our inner world.
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Pain wanders through my bones like a lost fire
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What have I done, dear God, to deserve this perpetual feeling that I'm almost ready to begin something really new?
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The fields stretch out in long unbroken rows. We walk aware of what is far and close. Here distance is familiar as a friend. The feud we kept with space comes to an end.
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In the kingdom of bang and blab.
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A too explicit elucidation in education destroys much of the pleasure of learning. There should be room for sly hinters, masters of suggestion.
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Long live the weeds that overwhelm My narrow vegetable realm! The bitter rock, the barren soil That force the son of man to toil All things unholy, marred by curse, The ugly of the universe.
Theodore Roethke