Walt whitman quotes

Simplicity is the glory of expression.

This is what you should do: love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to everyone that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence toward the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unknown or to any man or number of men ... re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book, dismiss what insults your own soul, and your very flesh shall be a great poem.

Give me solitude, give me Nature, give me again O Nature your primal sanities!

I think I could turn and live with the animals, they are so placid and self contained; I stand and look at them long and long. They do not sweat and whine about their condition; They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins; They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God; Not one is dissatisfied-not one is demented with the mania of owning things; Not one kneels to another, nor his kind that lived thousands of years ago; Not one is responsible or industrious over the whole earth.

Whatever satisfies the soul is truth.

It is only the novice in political economy who thinks it is the duty of government to make its citizens happy - government has no such office.

O captain! My Captain! Our fearful trip is done. The ship has weather'd every wrack The prize we sought is won The port is near, the bells I hear The people all exulting While follow eyes, the steady keel The vessel grim and daring But Heart! Heart! Heart! O the bleeding drops of red Where on the deck my captain lies Fallen cold and dead.

To me, every hour of the light and dark is a miracle. Every cubic inch of space is a miracle.

I have learned that to be with those I like is enough.

I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable.

All truths wait in all things,/They neither hasten their own delivery nor resist it

A man can be a hero in any profession

I am too not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable, I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.

I keep thinking about you every few minutes all day.

I see behind each mask that wonder a kindred soul.

Peace is always beautiful.

The whole purpose of the universe is unerringly aimed at one thing - you.

I discover myself on the verge of a usual mistake.

Afoot and lighthearted I take to the open road, healthy, free, the world before me.

Be curious, not judgmental.

I no doubt deserved my enemies, but I don't believe I deserved my friends.

Nothing endures but personal qualities.

The greatest country, the richest country, is not that which has the most capitalists, monopolists, immense grabbings, vast fortunes, with its sad, sad soil of extreme, degrading, damning poverty, but the land in which there are the most homesteads, freeholds - where wealth does not show such contrasts high and low, where all men have enough - a modest living- and no man is made possessor beyond the sane and beautiful necessities.

These are the days that must happen to you.

This is what you shall do: Love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to every one that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence toward the people.

As for me, I know nothing else but miracles, Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan, Or dart my sight over the roofs of houses toward the sky, Or wade with naked feet along the beach just in the edge of the water, Or stand under the trees in the woods, Or talk by day with any one I love, Or sleep in bed at night with any one I love, Or watch honey bees busy around the hive of a summer forenoon... Or the wonderfulness of the sundown, Or of stars shining so quiet and bright, Or the exquisite delicate thin curve of the new moon in spring... What stranger miracles are there?

Re-examine all you have been told in school or church or in any book, and dismiss whatever insults your own soul; and your very flesh shall be a great poem.

The road to wisdom is paved with excess. The mark of a true writer is their ability to mystify the familiar and familiarize the strange.

Where the earth is, we are.

What is that you express in your eyes? It seems to me more than all the print I have read in my life.

Re-examine all that you have been told... dismiss that which insults your soul.

Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road. Healthy, free, the world before me. The long brown path before me leading me wherever I choose. Henceforth, I ask not good fortune, I myself am good fortune. Henceforth, I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing.

The real war will never get in the books.

All truths wait in all things.

Each of us inevitable; Each of us limitless-each of us with his or her right upon the earth.

The smallest sprout shows there is really no death.

Either define the moment or the moment will define you.

I am not contain'd between my hat and boots.

Every hour of every day is an unspeakably perfect miracle.

I swear to you, there are divine things more beautiful than words can tell

I celebrate myself, and sing myself, And what I assume you shall assume, For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.

Once fully enslaved, no nation, state, city of this earth ever afterward resumes its liberty.

Did you, too, O friend, suppose democracy was only for elections, for politics, and for a party name? I say democracy is only of use there that it may pass on and come to its flower and fruit in manners, in the highest forms of interaction between people, and their beliefs - in religion, literature, colleges and schools- democracy in all public and private life.

In the faces of men and women, I see God.

A morning-glory at my window satisfies me more than the metaphysics of books.

Over all the sky - the sky! Far, far out of reach, studded with eternal stars.

From this hour I ordain myself loos'd of limits and imaginary lines.

You want to know a sure way to lose money? Buy what's popular and don't know what you are investing in.

We were together. I forget the rest.

I will sleep no more but arise, You oceans that have been calm within me! how I feel you, fathomless, stirring, preparing unprecedented waves and storms.

The habit of giving only enhances the desire to give.

Sail Forth- Steer for the deep waters only. Reckless O soul, exploring. I with thee and thou with me. For we are bound where mariner has not yet dared go. And we will risk the ship, ourselves, and all.

I have perceiv’d that to be with those I like is enough, To stop in company with the rest at evening is enough, To be surrounded by beautiful, curious, breathing, laughing flesh is enough, To pass among them, or touch any one, or rest my arm ever so lightly round his or her neck for a moment—what is this, then? I do not ask any more delight—I swim in it, as in a sea.

In the confusion we stay with each other, happy to be together, speaking without uttering a single word.

My words itch at your ears till you understand them

I hate commas in the wrong places.

Every moment of light and dark is a miracle.

There will never be any more perfection than there is now.

The secret of it all, is to write in the gush, the throb, the flood, of the moment – to put things down without deliberation – without worrying about their style – without waiting for a fit time or place. I always worked that way. I took the first scrap of paper, the first doorstep, the first desk, and wrote – wrote, wrote…By writing at the instant the very heartbeat of life is caught.

The gift is to the giver, and comes back most to him - it cannot fail

Keep your face always toward the sunshine - and shadows will fall behind you.

Those who love each other shall become invincible.

When the materials are all prepared and ready, the architects shall appear.

The strongest and sweetest songs yet remain to be sung.

The truth is simple. If it was complicated, everyone would understand it.

We convince by our presence.

To drive free, to love free, to court destruction with taunts, to feed the remainder of life with one hour of fullness and freedom - one brief hour of madness and joy.

I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey-work of the stars.

The powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse.

Without enough wilderness America will change. Democracy, with its myriad personalities and increasing sophistication, must be fibred and vitalized by regular contact with outdoor growths - animals, trees, sun warmth and free skies - or it will dwindle and pale.

Not I, nor anyone else can travel that road for you. You must travel it by yourself. It is not far. It is within reach. Perhaps you have been on it since you were born, and did not know. Perhaps it is everywhere - on water and land.

I know I am deathless. No doubt I have died myself ten thousand times before. I laugh at what you call dissolution, and I know the amplitude of time.

I exist as I am, that is enough.

I think I could turn and live with animals, they are so placid and self-contain'd, I stand and look at them long and long.

this is thy hour o soul, thy free flight into the wordless, away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done, thee fully forth emerging, silent, gazing, pondering the themes thou lovest best, night, sleep, death and the stars.

All music is is what awakes from you when you are reminded by the instruments.

Do anything, but let it produce joy.

Some people are so much sunshine to the square inch.

I give you my hand, I give you my love more precious than money, I give you myself before preaching or law; Will you give me yourself?

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!

All beauty comes from beautiful blood and a beautiful brain.

All is procession; the universe is a procession with measured and beautiful motion.

I am satisfied ... I see, dance, laugh, sing.

If you done it, it ain't bragging.

Are you the new person drawn toward me? To begin with, take warning - I am surely far different from what you suppose; Do you suppose you will find in me your ideal? Do you think it so easy to have me become your lover? Do you think the friendship of me would be unalloy'd satisfaction? Do you think I am trusty and faithful? Do you see no further than this façade—this smooth and tolerant manner of me? Do you suppose yourself advancing on real ground toward a real heroic man? Have you no thought, O dreamer, that it may be all maya, illusion?

All the things of the universe are perfect miracles, each as profound as any.

Dismiss whatever insults your soul.

I am not to speak to you, I am to think of you when I sit alone or wake at night alone, I am to wait, I do not doubt I am to meet you again, I am to see to it that I do not lose you.

God is a mean-spirited, pugnacious bully bent on revenge against His children for failing to live up to his impossible standards.

A writer can do nothing for men more necessary, satisfying, than just simply to reveal to them the infinite possibility of their own souls.

Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, I am large, I contain multitudes.

I and this mystery, here we stand.

I dream in my dreams all the dreams of the other dreamers. And I become the other dreamers.

Pointing to another world will never stop vice among us; shedding light over this world can alone help us.

Happiness, not in another place but this place...not for another hour, but this hour.

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.

There was never any more inception than there is now, Nor any more youth or age than there is now; And will never be any more perfection than there is now, Nor any more heaven or hell than there is now.

Now, Voyager, sail thou forth, to seek and find."

The art of art... is simplicity.

NOT I - NOT ANYONE else, can travel that road for you, You must travel it for yourself.

Re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your own soul; and your very flesh shall be a great poem, and have the richest fluency, not only in its words, but in the silent lines of its lips and face, and between the lashes of your eyes, and in every motion and joint of your body.

There is no week nor day nor hour when tyranny may not enter upon this country, if the people lose their roughness and spirit of defiance.

I do not ask the wounded person how he feels, I myself become the wounded person.

The ecstasy is so short but the forgetting is so long.

Wisdom is not finally tested by the schools, Wisdom cannot be pass'd from one having it to another not having it, Wisdom is of the soul, is not susceptible of proof, is its own proof.

The President eats dirt and excrement for his daily meals, likes it and tries to force it on The States.

Let your soul stand cool and composed before a million universes.

Have you learned the lessons only of those who admired you, and were tender with you, and stood aside for you? Have you not learned great lessons from those who braced themselves against you, and disputed passage with you?

Love the earth and sun and animals, Despise riches, give alms to everyone that asks, Stand up for the stupid and crazy, Devote your income and labor to others... And your very flesh shall be a great poem.

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.

The earth does not argue, Is not pathetic, has no arrangements, Does not scream, haste, persuade, threaten, promise, Makes no discriminations, has no conceivable failures, Closes nothing, refuses nothing, shuts none out.

Whoever you are, now I place my hand upon you/ That you may be my poem/ I whisper with my lips close to your ear/ I have loved many women and men, but I love none better than you.

To have great poets, there must be great audiences.

The future is no more uncertain than the present.

Behold I do not give lectures or a little charity, When I give I give myself.

You have not known what you are - you have slumber'd upon yourself all your life; Your eye-lids have been the same as closed most of the time; What you have done returns already in mockeries; Your thrift, knowledge, prayers, if they do not return in mockeries, what is their return? The mockeries are not you; Underneath them, and within them, I see you lurk.

Resist much, obey little.

Be not ashamed women, ... You are the gates of the body, and you are the gates of the soul.

Why who makes much of a miracle? As to me I know nothing else but miracles, whether they be animals feeding in the fields, Or, birds, or the wonderfulness of insects in the air, Or the wonderfulness of the sundown, or of stars shining so quiet and bright, Or the exquisite delicate thin curve of the new moon in spring; These, with the rest, one and all, are to me, miracles.

Forsake all inhibitions, Pursue thy dreams.

Give me the splendid, silent sun with all his beams full-dazzling.

Produce great men, the rest follows.

Be not dishearten'd -- Affection shall solve the problems of Freedom yet; Those who love each other shall become invincible.

When one reaches out to help another he touches the face of God.

I hear and behold God in every object, yet understand God not in the least.