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| Josef Breitenbach Box Hill, England 1938 gelatin silver print Loeb Art Center, Vassar College, Poughkeepsie, New York |
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| Anton Bruehl Portrait of a Girl 1938 tri-color carbro print National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
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| Emily Carr Light Swooping Through 1938 oil on canvas Art Gallery of Greater Victoria, British Columbia |
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| Archibald Douglas Colquhoun Alice 1938 oil on canvas Art Gallery of New South Wales, Sydney |
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| Robert Delaunay Rhythme II 1938 oil on canvas Seattle Art Museum |
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| Don Freeman On the Fly-Rail above the Stars 1938 lithograph San Jose Museum of Art, California |
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| George Grosz The Blue Chair 1938 oil on canvas Wichita Art Museum, Kansas |
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| Johan Hagemeyer Antoinette Detcheva, pianist 1938 gelatin silver print Art Institute of Chicago |
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| Rockwell Kent Books make the Home 1938 wood-engraving Delaware Art Museum, Wilmington |
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| Lee Krasner Still Life 1938 oil on paper National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
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| Man Ray Imaginary Portrait of the Marquis de Sade 1938 oil on canvas Menil Collection, Houston |
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| Lisette Model Aveugle 1938 gelatin silver print Crocker Art Museum, Sacramento, California |
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| Barbara Morgan City Shell 1938 gelatin silver print Fralin Museum of Art, Charlottesville, Virginia |
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| Rodrigo Moynihan Still Life - Fish and Bottle 1938 oil on canvas Art Gallery of New South Wales, Sydney |
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| Norman Blaine Saunders Illustration for Detective Short Stories Magazine 1938 oil on canvas New Britain Museum of American Art, Connecticut |
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| Miklos Suba American Landscape 1938 oil on canvas Phoenix Art Museum, Arizona |
from The Quest
He watched with all his organs of concern
How princes walk, what wives and children say,
Re-opened old graves in his heart to learn
What laws the dead had died to disobey,
And came reluctantly to his conclusion:
"All the arm-chair philosophies are false;
To love another adds to the confusion;
The song of mercy is the Devil's Waltz."
All that he put his hand to prospered so
That soon he was the very King of creatures,
Yet, in an autumn nightmare trembled, for,
Approaching down a ruined corridor,
Strode someone with his own distorted features
Who wept, and grew enormous, and cried Woe.
– W.H. Auden (1940)