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Are you the new person drawn toward 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
Drawn
Toward
Persons
Person

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Seeing, hearing, feeling, are miracles, and each part and tag of me is a miracle.
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To behold the day-break! The little light fades the immense and diaphanous shadows, The air tastes good to my palate.
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.
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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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God is a mean-spirited, pugnacious bully bent on revenge against His children for failing to live up to his impossible standards.
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You will hardly know who I am or what I mean, But I shall be good health to you nevertheless, And filter and fibre your blood. Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged, Missing me one place search another, I stop somewhere waiting for you.
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I hate commas in the wrong places.
Walt Whitman
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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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More and more too, the old name absorbs into me. Mannahatta, 'the place encircled by many swift tides and sparkling waters.' How fit a name for America's great democratic island city! The word itself, how beautiful! how aboriginal! how it seems to rise with tall spires, glistening in sunshine, with such New World atmosphere, vista and action!
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I have heard what the talkers were talking, the talk of the beginning and the end, But I do not talk of the beginning or the end.
Walt Whitman
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For we cannot tarry here, We must march my darlings, we must bear the brunt of danger, We, the youthful sinewy races, all the rest on us depend, Pioneers! O pioneers!
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Do anything, but let it produce joy.
Walt Whitman
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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.
Walt Whitman
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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.
Walt Whitman
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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.
Walt Whitman
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O amazement of things-even the least particle!
Walt Whitman
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Do you see O my brothers and sisters? It is not chaos or death, it is form, union, plan, it is eternal life, it is happiness.
Walt Whitman
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All truths wait in all things.
Walt Whitman
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Clear and sweet is my soul, clear and sweet is all that is not my soul.
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I say the whole earth and all the stars in the sky are for religion's sake.
Walt Whitman