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And I walked, I walked through the light air I moved with the morning.
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
Light
Walked
Wander
Moved
Air
Walking
Sauntering
Journey
Trekking
Walks
Strolling
Morning
Hiking
More quotes by Theodore Roethke
Reason? That dreary shed, that hutch for grubby schoolboys.
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Love is not love until love's vulnerable.
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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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When I go mad, I call my friends by phone: I am afraid they might think they're alone.
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All lovers live by longing, and endure: Summon a vision and declare it pure.
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Live in a perpetual great astonishment.
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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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Being, not doing, is my first joy.
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I am overwhelmed by the beautiful disorder of poetry, the eternal virginity of words.
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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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I always felt mean, jogging back over the logging road,As if I had broken the natural order of things in that swamplandDisturbed some rhythm, old and of vast importance,By pulling off flesh from the living planetAs if I had committed, against the whole scheme of life, a desecration.
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What is madness but nobility of soul at odds with circumstance?
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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.
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The poet: would rather eat a heart than a hambone.
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I wish I could find an event that meant as much as simple seeing.
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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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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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I lose and find myself in the long water. I am gathered together once more.
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What falls away is always. And is near.
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