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I find no sweeter fat than sticks to my own bones.

Walt Whitman

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Walt Whitman
Age: 72 †
Born: 1819
Born: May 31
Died: 1892
Died: March 26
Editor
Essayist
Journalist
Novelist
Nurse
Poet
Writer
West Hills
New York
Walter Whitman
Diets
Fats
Sticks
Bones
Humor
Funny
Find
Sweeter
Obesity

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Whatever satisfies the soul is truth.
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Apart from the pulling and hauling stands what I am, Stands amused, complacent, compassionating, idle, unitary, Looks down, is erect, or bends an arm on an impalpable certain rest, Looking with side-curved head curious what will come next, Both in and out of the game and watching and wondering at it.
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Freedom - to walk free and own no superior.
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All is procession the universe is a procession with measured and beautiful motion.
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Nothing endures but personal qualities.
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But where is what I started for so long ago? And why is it yet unfound?
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TO the States or any one of them, or any city of the States, Resist much, obey little, Once unquestioning obedience, once fully enslaved, Once fully enslaved, no nation, state, city of this earth, ever after-ward resumes its liberty.
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The sum of all known value and respect, I add up in you, whoever you are.
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I do not ask the wounded person how he feels, I myself become the wounded person.
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To me the sea is a continual miracle The fishes that swim - the rocks - the motion of the waves - the ships, with men in them, what stranger miracles are there?
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Give me the splendid, silent sun with all his beams full-dazzling.
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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.
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Give me solitude, give me Nature, give me again O Nature your primal sanities!
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Produce great men, the rest follows.
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The question, O me! so sad, recurring - What good amid these, O me, O life? That you are here - that life exists and identity, that the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.
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Are you the new person drawn toward me?
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In the confusion we stay with each other, happy to be together, speaking without uttering a single word.
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And as to you Death, and you bitter hug of mortality, it is idle to try to alarm me.
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We also ascend dazzling and tremendous as the sun, We found our own O my soul in the calm and cool of the daybreak.
Walt Whitman
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Under the specious pretext of effecting 'the happiness of the whole community,' nearly all the wrongs and intrusions of government has been carried through.
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