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Whoever degrades another degrades me, And whatever is done or said returns at last to me.

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
Done
Returns
Whoever
Return
Community
Whatever
Lasts
Degrades
Last
Aggravation
Another
Degrade

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I exist as I am, that is enough, If no other in the world be aware, I sit content, And if each and all be aware, I sit content.
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I henceforth tread the world, chaste, temperate, an early riser, a steady grower.
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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
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Viewed freely, the English language is the accretion and growth of every dialect, race, and range of time, and is both the free and compacted composition of all.
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Give me juicy autumnal fruit, ripe and red from the orchard.
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Clear and sweet is my soul, clear and sweet is all that is not my soul.
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O Earth, that hast no voice, confide to me a voice! O harvest of my lands! O boundless summer growths! O lavish, brown, parturient earth! O infinite, teeming womb! A verse to seek, to see, to narrate thee.
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I mind how once we lay such a transparent summer morning, How you settled your head athwart my hips and gently turn'd over upon me, And parted the shirt from my bosom-bone, and plunged your tongue to my bare-stript heart, And reach'd till you felt my beard, and reach'd till you held my feet.
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When lilacs last in the dooryard bloom'd / And the great star early droop'd in the western sky in the night, / I mourn'd, and yet shall mourn with ever-returning spring.
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To me, every hour of the light and dark is a miracle. Every cubic inch of space is a miracle.
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There is no place like it, no place with an atom of its glory, pride, and exultancy. It lays its hand upon a man's bowels he grows drunk with ecstasy he grows young and full of glory, he feels that he can never die.
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I have sometimes thought that the laws ought not to punish those actions of evil which are committed when the senses are steeped in intoxication.
Walt Whitman
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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.
Walt Whitman
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I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable.
Walt Whitman
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O amazement of things-even the least particle!
Walt Whitman
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O America! Because you build for mankind I build for you.
Walt Whitman
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Other lands have their vitality in a few, a class, but we have it in the bulk of our people.
Walt Whitman
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Lo, the most excellent sun so calm and haughty, The violet and purple morn with just-felt breezes, The gentle soft-born measureless light, The miracle spreading bathing all, the fulfill'd noon, The coming eve delicious, the welcome night and the stars, Over my cities shining all, enveloping man and land.
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Strange, (is it not?) that battles, martyrs, blood, even assassination should so condense - perhaps only really lastingly condense - a Nationality.
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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.
Walt Whitman