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Comrades mine and I in the midst, and their memory ever to keep for the dead I loved so well.
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
Keep
Midst
Ever
Memory
Wells
Mines
Well
Mine
Life
Dead
Memories
Comrades
Loved
Comrade
Death
Insanity
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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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Long enough have you dream'd contemptible dreams, Now I wash the gum from your eyes, You must habit yourself to the dazzle of the light and of every moment of your life
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Loafe with me on the grass—loose the stop from your throat Not words, not music or rhyme I want—not custom or lecture, not even the best Only the lull I like, the hum of your valved voice.
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I henceforth tread the world, chaste, temperate, an early riser, a steady grower.
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I say you shall yet find the friend you were looking for.
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I pass death with the dying and birth with the new-wash'd babe, and am not contained between my hat and my boots.
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There is no God any more divine than Yourself.
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Let that which stood in front go behind, let that which was behind advance to the front, let bigots, fools, unclean persons, offer new propositions, let the old propositions be postponed.
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In all people I see myself - none more, and not one a barleycorn less And the good or bad I say of myself, I say of them.
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I am too not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable, I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.
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I swear I think there is nothing but immortality!
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Now I see the secret of making the best person: it is to grow in the open air and to eat and sleep with the earth.
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Manhattan crowds, with their turbulent musical chorus! Manhattan faces and eyes forever for me.
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storming, enjoying, planning, loving, cautioning, Backing and filling, appearing and disappearing, I tread day and night such roads.
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O the joy of my spirit - it is uncaged - it darts like lightning!
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I wear my hat as I please, indoors or out.
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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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Henceforth I ask not good fortune. I myself am good fortune.
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This face is a dog's snout sniffing for garbage, snakes nest in that mouth, I hear the sibilant threat.
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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.
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