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The Americans, like the English, probably make love worse than any other race.

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
Make
Love
Like
Insulting
English
Worse
Americans
Probably
Race

More quotes by Walt Whitman

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You road I enter upon and look around, I believe you are not all that is here, I believe much unseen is also here
Walt Whitman
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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.
Walt Whitman
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And your very flesh shall be a great poem.
Walt Whitman
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I was in the midst of it all - saw war where war is worst - not on the battlefields, no - in the hospitals ... there I mixed with it: and now I say God damn the wars - allw ars: God damn every war: God damn 'em! God damn 'em!
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You will hardly know who I am or what I mean, But I shall be good health to you nevertheless, And filter and fibre your blood. Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged, Missing me one place search another, I stop somewhere waiting for you.
Walt Whitman
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TO the States or any one of them, or any city of the States, Resist much, obey little, Once unquestioning obedience, once fully enslaved, Once fully enslaved, no nation, state, city of this earth, ever after-ward resumes its liberty.
Walt Whitman
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O the joy of the strong-brawn'd fighter, towering in the arena in perfect condition, conscious of power, thirsting to meet his opponent.
Walt Whitman
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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!
Walt Whitman
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Strong and content I travel the open road.
Walt Whitman
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My ties and ballasts leave me - I travel - I sail - My elbows rest in the sea-gaps. I skirt the sierras. My palms cover continents - I am afoot with my vision.
Walt Whitman
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Seasons pursuing each other the indescribable crowd is gathered, it is the fourth of Seventh-month, (what salutes of cannon and small arms!
Walt Whitman
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Camden was originally an accident, but I shall never be sorry I was left over in Camden. It has brought me blessed returns.
Walt Whitman
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Walt Whitman, a kosmos, of Manhattan the son, Turbulent, fleshy, sensual, eating, drinking and breeding, No sentimentalist, no stander above men and women or apart from them, No more modest than immodest.
Walt Whitman
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The jour printer with gray head and gaunt jaws works at his case, He turns his quid of tobacco, while his eyes blur with the manuscript.
Walt Whitman
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I see Hermes, unsuspected, dying, well-beloved, saying to the people, Do not weep for me, This is not my true country, I have lived banished from my true country - I now go back there, I return to the celestial sphere where every one goes in his turn.
Walt Whitman
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I wear my hat as I please, indoors or out.
Walt Whitman
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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.
Walt Whitman
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You linger to see his back, and the back of his neck and shoulder-side...The Bending forward and backward of the rowers...
Walt Whitman
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And if the body were not the soul, what is the soul?
Walt Whitman
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Youth, large, lusty, loving -- Youth, full of grace, force, fascination. Do you know that Old Age may come after you with equal grace, force, fascination?
Walt Whitman