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I think I could turn and live with animals, they are so placid and self-contained, I stand and look at them long and long.
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
Looks
Animals
Long
Turn
Think
Stand
Thinking
Animal
Placid
Turns
Demented
Live
Contained
Look
Pet
Self
Aging
More quotes by Walt Whitman
Nothing endures but personal qualities.
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I am not contain'd between my hat and boots.
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I dreamed in a dream, I saw a city invincible to the attacks of the whole of the rest of the earth I dreamed that was the new City of Friends Nothing was greater there than the quality of robust loveāit led the rest It was seen every hour in the actions of the men of that city, And in all their looks and words.
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Forsake all inhibitions, Pursue thy dreams.
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A great city is that which has the greatest men and women.
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Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road. Healthy, free, the world before me. The long brown path before me leading me wherever I choose. Henceforth, I ask not good fortune, I myself am good fortune. Henceforth, I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing.
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Dismiss whatever insults your soul.
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And there is no trade or employment but the young man following it may become a hero.
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What is commonest and cheapest and nearest and easiest is Me, Me going in for my chances, spending for vast returns, Adorning myself to bestow myself on the first that will take me, Not asking the sky to come down to my goodwill, Scattering if freely forever.
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Be not ashamed women, ... You are the gates of the body, and you are the gates of the soul.
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Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the origin of all poems
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All music is is what awakes from you when you are reminded by the instruments.
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Dearest comrades, all is over and long gone, But love is not over.
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I dance with the dancers.
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And whoever walks a furlong without sympathy walks to his own funeral drest in his shroud.
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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.
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There was a child went forth everyday, And the first object he looked upon and received with wonder or pity or dread, that object he became, And that object became part of him for the day or a certain part of the day... or for many years or stretching cycles of years.
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The eager and often inconsiderate appeals of reformers and revolutionists are indispensable to counterbalance the inertia and fossilism marking so large a part of human institutions.
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Ah little recks the laborer, How near his work is holding him to God, The loving Laborer through space and time
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I wear my hat as I please, indoors or out.
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