Quote

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

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Theodore Roethke
Age: 55 †
Born: 1908
Born: May 25
Died: 1963
Died: August 1
Poet
Teacher
Writer
Saginaw
Michigan
Universe
Realms
Weeds
Force
Curse
Barren
Live
Soil
Toil
Long
Bitter
Vegetables
Things
Ugly
Realm
Marred
Men
Son
Bitterness
Unholy
Rock
Weed
Overwhelm
Rocks
Narrow
Vegetable

More quotes by Theodore Roethke

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All lovers live by longing, and endure: Summon a vision and declare it pure.
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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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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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The stones were sharp, The wind came at my back Walking along the highway, Mincing like a cat.
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Love is not love until love's vulnerable.
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But when I breath with the birds, The spirit of wrath becomes the spirit of blessings, And the dead begin from their dark to sing in my sleep.
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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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Time marks us while we are marking time.
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Live in a perpetual great astonishment.
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I wish I could find an event that meant as much as simple seeing.
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The living all assemble! What's the cue?-- Do what the clumsy partner wants to do!
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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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Let others probe the mystery if they can.Time-harried prisoners of Shall and Will -The right thing happens to the happy man.
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What is madness but nobility of soul at odds with circumstance?
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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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I came where the river Ran over stones My ears knew An early joy. And all the waters Of all the streams Sang in my veins That summer day.
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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 have gone into the waste lonely places
Theodore Roethke