Quote

A too explicit elucidation in education destroys much of the pleasure of learning. There should be room for sly hinters, masters of suggestion.

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
Room
Rooms
Sly
Learning
Suggestion
Education
Explicit
Pleasure
Destroys
Much
Suggestions
Masters
Teaching

More quotes by Theodore Roethke

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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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Nothing would give up life: Even the dirt keeps breathing a small breath.
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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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I learn by going where I have to go.
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And I walked, I walked through the light air I moved with the morning.
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How body from spirit slowly does unwind, until we are pure spirit at the end.
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Time marks us while we are marking time.
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A mind too active is no mind at all.
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The indignity of it!- With everything blooming above me, Lilies, pale-pink cyclamen, roses, Whole fields lovely and inviolate,- Me down in the fetor of weeds, Crawling on all fours, Alive, in a slippery grave.
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You must believe: a poem is a holy thing - a good poem, that is. The poem, even a short time after being written, seems no miracle unwritten, it seems something beyond the capacity of the gods.
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Live in a perpetual great astonishment.
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I came to love, I came into my own.
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A terrible violence of creation,A flash into the burning heart of the abominableYet if we wait, unafraid, beyond the fearful instant,The burning lake turns into a forest pool,The fire subsides into rings of water,A sunlit silence.
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What's important? That which is dug out of books, or out of the guts?
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Pain wanders through my bones like a lost fire
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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.
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In this place of light: he dares to live Who stops being a bird, yet beats his wings Against the immense immeasurable emptiness of things.
Theodore Roethke
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By daily dying, I have come to be.
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When I go mad, I call my friends by phone: I am afraid they might think they're alone.
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Fear was my father, Father Fear. His look drained the stones.
Theodore Roethke