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Why are there trees I never walk under but large and melodious thoughts descend upon 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
Large
Walking
Thoughts
Walk
Tree
Walks
Melodious
Upon
Descend
Never
Trees
More quotes by Walt Whitman
Joy, shipmate, joy! (Pleased to my soul at death I cry), Our life is closed, our life begins, The long, long anchorage we leave, The ship is clear at last, she leaps! She swiftly courses from the shore, Joy, shipmate, joy!
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The art of art, the glory of expression and the sunshine of the light of letters, is simplicity.
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An individual is as superb as a nation when he has the qualities which make a superb nation.
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Afoot and lighthearted I take to the open road, healthy, free, the world before me.
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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.
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It is a beautiful truth that all men contain something of the artist in them. And perhaps it is the case that the greatest artists live and die, the world and themselves alike ignorant what they possess.
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The Americans, like the English, probably make love worse than any other race.
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Books are to be called for and supplied on the assumption that the process of reading is not a half-sleep, but in the highest sense an exercise, a gymnastic struggle that the reader is to do something for himself.
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What is that you express in your eyes? It seems to me more than all the print I have read in my life.
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The most affluent man is he that confronts all the shows he sees by equivalents out of the stronger wealth of himself.
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Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space.
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Thunder on! Stride on! Democracy. Strike with vengeful stroke!
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Old age: The estuary that enlarges and spreads itself grandly as it pours into the Great Sea.
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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. One world is aware, and by the far the largest to me, and that is myself, And whether I come to my own today or in ten thousand or ten million years, I can cheerfully take it now, or with equal cheerfulness, I can wait.
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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.
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I will You, in all, Myself, with promise to never desert you, To which I sign my name.
Walt Whitman
Manhattan streets with their powerful throbs, with beating drums as now, The endless and noisy chorus, the rustle and clank of muskets, (even the sight of the wounded,) Manhattan crowds, with their turbulent musical chorus! Manhattan faces and eyes forever for me.
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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.
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O the joy of the strong-brawn'd fighter, towering in the arena in perfect condition, conscious of power, thirsting to meet his opponent.
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I am larger, better than I thought I did not know I held so much goodness.
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