Quote

I think I will do nothing for a long time but listen, And accrue what I hear into myself...and let sound contribute 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
Time
Accrue
Think
Contribute
Thinking
Toward
Listen
Hear
Sound
Nothing
Long

More quotes by Walt Whitman

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The city sleeps and the country sleeps, the living sleep for their time, the dead sleep for their time, the old husband sleeps by his wife and the young husband sleeps by his wife and these tend inward to me, and I tend outward to them, and such as it is to be of these more or less I am, and of these one and all I weave the song of myself.
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I know I am deathlessÂ…We have thus far exhausted trillions of winters and summers, There are trillions ahead, and trillions ahead of them.
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A woman waits for me, she contains all, nothing is lacking, Yet all were lacking if sex were lacking, or if the moisture of the right man were lacking.
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Comerado, this is no book,Who touches this, touches a man,(Is it night? Are we here alone?)It is I you hold, and who holds you,I spring from the pages into your arms-decease calls me forth.
Walt Whitman
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I refuse putting from me the best that I am.
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The powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse.
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I think it is lost.....but nothing is ever lost nor can be lost .
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A great city is that which has the greatest men and women.
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The work for giants...to serve well the guns!
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There is no object so soft but it makes a hub for the wheeled universe.
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I see that I am to wait for what will be exhibited by death.
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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?
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I will sleep no more but arise, You oceans that have been calm within me! how I feel you, fathomless, stirring, preparing unprecedented waves and storms.
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Re-examine all that you have been told... dismiss that which insults your soul.
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O joy of suffering! To struggle against great odds! to meet enemies undaunted! To be entirely alone with them! to find how much one can stand! To look strife, torture, prison, popular odium, death, face to face! To mount the scaffold! to advance to the muzzles of guns with perfect nonchalance! To be indeed a God!
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I speak the password primeval I give the sign of democracy.
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Everybody is writing, writing, writing - worst of all, writing poetry. It'd be better if the whole tribe of the scribblers - every damned one of us - were sent off somewhere with tool chests to do some honest work.
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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.
Walt Whitman
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I say the whole earth and all the stars in the sky are for religion's sake.
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Resist much, obey little.
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