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Now I will do nothing but listen to accrue what I hear into this song. To let sounds contribute toward it. I hear the sound I love. The sound of the human voice. I hear all sounds running together.

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
Together
Sounds
Human
Toward
Humans
Listen
Nothing
Hear
Love
Sound
Voice
Song
Accrue
Running
Contribute

More quotes by Walt Whitman

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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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All truths wait in all things,/They neither hasten their own delivery nor resist it
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I cannot too often repeat that Democracy is a word the real gist of which still sleeps, quite unawakened, notwithstanding the resonance and the many angry tempests out of which its syllables have come, from pen or tongue. It is a great word, whose history, I suppose, remains unwritten because that history has yet to be enacted.
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A Song of the good green grass! A song no more of the city streets A song of farms - a song of the soil of fields. A song with the smell of sun-dried hay, where the nimble pitchers handle the pitch-fork A song tasting of new wheat, and of fresh-husk'd maize.
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I cannot be awake for nothing looks to me as it did before, Or else I am awake for the first time, and all before has been a mean sleep.
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All the past we leave behind We debouch upon a newer, mightier world, varied world, Fresh and strong the world we seize, world of labor and the march, Pioneers! O Pioneers!
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Failing to fetch me at first, keep encouraged. Missing me one place, search another. I stop somewhere waiting for you.
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Swiftly arose and spread around me the peace and knowledge that pass all the argument of the earth, And I know that the hand of God is the promise of my own, And I know that the spirit of God is the brother of my own, And that all the men ever born are also my brothers, and the women my sisters and lovers, And that a kelson of the creation is love.
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We convince by our presence.
Walt Whitman
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A perfect writer would make words sing, dance, kiss, do the male and female act, bear children, weep, bleed, rage, stab, steal, fire cannon, steer ships, sack cities, charge with cavalry or infantry, or do anything that man or woman or the natural powers can do.
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The powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse.
Walt Whitman
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Logic and sermons never convince, The damp of the night drives deeper into my soul.
Walt Whitman
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All the things of the universe are perfect miracles, each as profound as any.
Walt Whitman
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If any thing is sacred, the human body is sacred.
Walt Whitman
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Future years will never know the seething hell and the black infernal background, the countless minor scenes and interiors of the secession war and it is best they should not. The real war will never get in the books.
Walt Whitman
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O me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring of the endless trains of the faithless... of cities filled with the foolish what good amid these, O me, O life?
Walt Whitman
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The smallest sprout shows there is really no death. And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait at the end to arrest it.
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Give me odorous at sunrise a garden of beautiful flowers where I can walk undisturbed.
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The female that loves unrequited sleeps, And the male that loves unrequited sleeps, The head of the money-maker that plotted all day sleeps, And the enraged and treacherous dispositions, all, all sleep.
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Do you guess I have some intricate purpose? Well I have, for the Fourth-month showers have, and the mica on the side of a rock has.
Walt Whitman