We were together. I forget the rest.
I have learned that to be with those I like is enough.
I celebrate myself, and sing myself.
Give me odorous at sunrise a garden of beautiful flowers where I can walk undisturbed.
A morning glory at my window satisfies me more than the metaphysics of books.
Those who love each other shall become invincible.
Judging from the main portions of the history of the world, so far, justice is always in jeopardy.
Re-examine all you have been told. Dismiss what insults your soul.
Do I contradict myself? Very well, then, I contradict myself; I am large -- I contain multitudes.
Resist much, obey little.
And your very flesh shall be a great poem.
I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey-work of the stars.
I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journeywork of the stars, And the pismire is equally perfect, and a grain of sand, and the egg of the wren, And the tree toad is a chef-d'oeurve for the highest, And the running blackberry would adorn the parlors of heaven, And the narrowest hinge in my hand puts to scorn all machinery, And the cow crunching with depress'd head surpasses any statue, And a mouse is miracle enough to stagger sextillions of infidels!
Alone far in the wilds and mountains I hunt, Wandering amazed at my own lightness and glee, In the late afternoon choosing a safe spot to pass the night, Kindling a fire and broiling the fresh-kill'd game, Falling asleep on the gather'd leaves with my dog and gun by my side.
Women sit or move to and fro, some are old, some young. The young are beautiful -- but the old are more beautiful than the young.
Women sit, or move to and fro -- some old, some young; The young are beautiful -- but the old are more beautiful than the young.
To you, clerk, literary man, sedentary person, man of fortune, idler ... Up! The world (perhaps you now look upon it with pallid and disgusted eyes) is full of zest and beauty for you, if you approach it in the right spirit!
City of orgies, walks and joys! City whom that I have lived and sung in your midst will one day make you illustrious,.
The most affluent man is he that confronts all the shows he sees by equivalents out of the stronger wealth of himself.
Agonies are one of my changes of garments;
I do not ask the wounded person how he feels ... I myself become the wounded person,
My hurt turns livid upon me as I lean on a cane and observe.
Storming, enjoying, planning, loving, cautioning, Backing and filling, appearing and disappearing, I tread day and night such roads.
And these things I see suddenly, what mean they?
As if some miracle, some hand divine unseal'd my eyes,
Shadowy vast shapes smile through the air and sky,
And on the distant waves sail countless ships,
And anthems in new tongues I hear saluting me.
The earth, that is sufficient,
I do not want the constellations any nearer,
I know they are very well where they are,
I know they suffice for those who belong to them.
O the joy of my spirit -- it is uncaged -- it darts like lightning! It is not enough to have this globe or a certain time, I will have thousands of globes and all time.
Come lovely and soothing death, Undulate round the world, serenely arriving, arriving, In the day, in the night, to all, to each, Sooner or later, delicate death.
We consider bibles and religions divine I do not say they are not divine. I say they have all grown out of you, and may grow out of you still. It is not they who give the life, it is you who give the life.
I know perfectly well my own egotism,
And know my omnivorous words, and cannot say any less,
And would fetch you whoever you are flush with myself.
AS I watch'd the ploughman ploughing,
Or the sower sowing in the fields, or the harvester harvesting,
I saw there too, O life and death, your analogies;
(Life, life is the tillage, and Death is the harvest according.).
Thought Of equality- as if it harm'd me, giving others the same chances and rights as myself- as if it were not indispensable to my own rights that others possess the same.
I think of few heroic actions, which cannot be traced to the artistical impulse. He who does great deeds, does them from his innate sensitiveness to moral beauty.
Do you guess I have some intricate purpose? Well I have, for the Fourth-month showers have, and the mica on the side of a rock has.
Mark the spirit of invention everywhere, thy rapid patents, Thy continual workshops, foundries, risen or rising, See, from their chimneys how the tall flame-fires stream.
A word of the faith that never balks,
Here or henceforward it is all the same to me, I accept Time absolutely.
It alone is without flaw, it alone rounds and completes all,
That mystic baffling wonder alone completes all.
The chief trait of any given poet is always the spirit he brings to the observation of Humanity and Nature--the mood out of which he contemplates his subjects.
My spirit has pass'd in compassion and determination around the whole earth. I have look'd for equals and lovers an found them ready for me in all lands, I think some divine rapport has equalized me with them.
And as to you Corpse I think you are good manure, but that does not offend me,
I smell the white roses sweet-scented and growing,
I reach to the leafy lips, I reach to the polish'd breasts of melons.
My little notebooks were beginnings -- they were the ground into which I dropped the seed... I would work in this way when I was out in the crowds, then put the stuff together at home.
O YOU whom I often and silently come where you are, that I may be with you; As I walk by your side, or sit near, or remain in the same room with you, Little you know the subtle electric fire that for your sake is playing within me.
The earth is rude, silent, incomprehensible at first; Be not discouraged -- keep on -- there are divine things, well envelop'd; I swear to you there are divine things more beautiful than words can tell.
I swear the earth shall surely be complete to him or her who shall be complete,
The earth remains jagged and broken only to him or her who remains jagged and broken.
I am given up by traitors;
I talk wildly ... I have lost my wits ... I and nobody else am the greatest traitor,
I went myself first to the headland ... my own hands carried me there.
I meet new Walt Whitmans everyday. There are a dozen of them afloat. I don't know which Walt Whitman I am.
Come I should like to hear you tell me what there is in yourself that is not just as wonderful,
And I should like to hear the name of anything between Sunday morning and Saturday night that is not just as wonderful.
Perhaps the efforts of the true poets, founders, religions, literatures, all ages, have been, and ever will be, our time and times to come, essentially the same -- to bring people back from their present strayings and sickly abstractions, to the costless, average, divine, original concrete.
Camden was originally an accident, but I shall never be sorry I was left over in Camden. It has brought me blessed returns.
Now, dearest comrade, lift me to your face,
We must separate awhile
Here! take from my lips this kiss.
Whoever you are, I give it especially to you;
So long! And I hope we shall meet again.
So here I sit in the early candle-light of old age-I and my book-casting backward glances over out travel'd road.
The truest and greatest Poetry, (while subtly and necessarily always rhythmic, and distinguishable easily enough) can never again, in the English language, be express'd in arbitrary and rhyming metre, any more than the greatest eloquence, or the truest power and passion.
Of all mankind the great poet is the equable man. Not in him but off from him things are grotesque or eccentric or fail of their sanity.
A man is a great thing upon the earth and through eternity; but every jot of the greatness of man is unfolded out of woman.
I see Hermes, unsuspected, dying, well-beloved, saying to the people, Do not weep for me, This is not my true country, I have lived banished from my true country -- I now go back there, I return to the celestial sphere where every one goes in his turn.
A writer can do nothing for men more necessary, satisfying, than just simply to reveal to them the infinite possibility of their own souls.
Has any one supposed it lucky to be born? I hasten to inform him or her it is just as lucky to die, and I know it.
The new rule shall rule as the soul rules, and as the love and justice and equality that are in the soul rule.
Somehow I have been stunned. Stand back!
Give me a little time beyond my cuffed head and slumbers
and dreams and gaping,
I discover myself on the verge of the usual mistake.
Comerado, this is no book,Who touches this, touches a man,(Is it night? Are we here alone?)It is I you hold, and who holds you,I spring from the pages into your arms-decease calls me forth.
Has anyone supposed it lucky to be born? I hasten to inform him or her that it is just as lucky to die, and I know it.
Long enough have you dream'd contemptible dreams, Now I wash the gum from your eyes, You must habit yourself to the dazzle of the light and of every moment of your life.
Quotes by Walt Whitman are featured in:
Short Love Quotes
Short Inner Peace Quotes