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What's important? That which is dug out of books, or out of the guts?
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
Guts
Importance
Books
Book
Important
More quotes by Theodore Roethke
A mind too active is no mind at all.
Theodore Roethke
The visible exhausts me. I am dissolved in shadow.
Theodore Roethke
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
Art is our defense against hysteria and death.
Theodore Roethke
The living all assemble! What's the cue?-- Do what the clumsy partner wants to do!
Theodore Roethke
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
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.
Theodore Roethke
I am overwhelmed by the beautiful disorder of poetry, the eternal virginity of words.
Theodore Roethke
What is madness but nobility of soul at odds with circumstance?
Theodore Roethke
Let others probe the mystery if they can.Time-harried prisoners of Shall and Will -The right thing happens to the happy man.
Theodore Roethke
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.
Theodore Roethke
I wish I could find an event that meant as much as simple seeing.
Theodore Roethke
So much of adolescence is an ill-defined dying, An intolerable waiting, A longing for another place and time, Another condition.
Theodore Roethke
I learn by going where I have to go.
Theodore Roethke
Love is not love until love's vulnerable.
Theodore Roethke
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.
Theodore Roethke
The poet: would rather eat a heart than a hambone.
Theodore Roethke
What falls away is always. And is near.
Theodore Roethke
Who rise from flesh to spirit know the fall: The word outleaps the world, and light is all.
Theodore Roethke
Pain wanders through my bones like a lost fire
Theodore Roethke