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To me, every hour of the light and dark is a miracle. Every cubic inch of space is a miracle.

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
Dark
Hanukkah
Hours
Inch
Space
Positivity
Light
Inches
Every
Christmas
Miracle
Gratitude
Hour
Cubic

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Seeing, hearing, feeling, are miracles, and each part and tag of me is a miracle.
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Dismiss whatever insults your soul.
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Nothing can happen more beautiful than death.
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I see great things in baseball. It's our game - the American game.
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The United States themselves are essentially the greatest poem.
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I find no sweeter fat than sticks to my own bones.
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Have you reckon’d a thousand acres much? have you reckon’d the earth much? Have you practis’d so long to learn to read? Have you felt so proud to get at the meaning of poems?
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Judging from the main portions of the history of the world, so far, justice is always in jeopardy.
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The beautiful uncut hair of graves.
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A man is a great thing upon the earth and through eternity but every jot of the greatness of man is unfolded out of woman.
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The Past -- the dark unfathomed retrospect! The teeming gulf --the sleepers and the shadows! The past! the infinite greatness of the past! For what is the present after all but a growth out of the past?
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All truths wait in all things,/They neither hasten their own delivery nor resist it
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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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Come lovely and soothing death, Undulate round the world, serenely arriving, arriving, In the day, in the night, to all, to each, Sooner or later, delicate death.
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So here I sit in the early candle-light of old age-I and my book-casting backward glances over out travel'd road.
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O captain! My Captain! Our fearful trip is done. The ship has weather'd every wrack The prize we sought is won The port is near, the bells I hear The people all exulting While follow eyes, the steady keel The vessel grim and daring But Heart! Heart! Heart! O the bleeding drops of red Where on the deck my captain lies Fallen cold and dead.
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I swear to you, there are divine things more beautiful than words can tell
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Some people are so much sunshine to the square inch.
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Agonies are one of my changes of garments.
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O Captain my Captain! our fearful trip is done, / The ship has weathered every rack, the prize we sought is won
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