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When one reaches out to help another he touches the face of God.

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
Another
Touches
Reaches
Teacher
Face
Help
Faces
Helping

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Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, I am large, I contain multitudes.
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The most affluent man is he that confronts all the shows he sees by equivalents out of the stronger wealth of himself.
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The best writing has no lace on its sleeves.
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The shallow, as intimated, consider liberty a release from all law, from every constraint. The wise see in it, on the contrary, the potent Law of Laws.
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Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space.
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My little notebooks were beginnings - they were the ground into which I dropped the seed... I would work in this way when I was out in the crowds, then put the stuff together at home.
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I cannot be awake for nothing looks to me as it did before, Or else I am awake for the first time, and all before has been a mean sleep.
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And your very flesh shall be a great poem.
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Thunder on! Stride on! Democracy. Strike with vengeful stroke!
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A woman waits for me, she contains all, nothing lacking.
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It is a beautiful truth that all men contain something of the artist in them. And perhaps it is the case that the greatest artists live and die, the world and themselves alike ignorant what they possess.
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I am larger, better than I thought I did not know I held so much goodness.
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O YOU whom I often and silently come where you are, that I may be with you As I walk by your side, or sit near, or remain in the same room with you, Little you know the subtle electric fire that for your sake is playing within me.
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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 am not to speak to you, I am to think of you when I sit alone or wake at night alone, I am to wait, I do not doubt I am to meet you again, I am to see to it that I do not lose you.
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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...
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When the materials are all prepared and ready, the architects shall appear.
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Without enough wilderness America will change. Democracy, with its myriad personalities and increasing sophistication, must be fibred and vitalized by regular contact with outdoor growths - animals, trees, sun warmth and free skies - or it will dwindle and pale.
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Clear and sweet is my soul, clear and sweet is all that is not my soul.
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And I will show of male and female that either is but the equal of the other.
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