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And a mouse is miracle enough to stagger sextillions of infidels.
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
Enough
Stagger
Infidels
Infidel
Mouse
Mice
Miracle
More quotes by Walt Whitman
I no doubt deserved my enemies, but I don't believe I deserved my friends.
Walt Whitman
At times it has been doubtful to me if Emerson really knows or feels what Poetry is at its highest, as in the Bible, for instance, or Homer or Shakspeare. I see he covertly or plainly likes best superb verbal polish, or something old or odd
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I think I will do nothing for a long time but listen, And accrue what I hear into myself...and let sound contribute toward me.
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Have you heard that it was good to gain the day? I also say it is good to fall, battles are lost in the same spirit in which they are won.
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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.
Walt Whitman
Logic and sermons never convince, The damp of the night drives deeper into my soul.
Walt Whitman
I know perfectly well my own egotism.
Walt Whitman
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.
Walt Whitman
I open my scuttle at night and see the far-sprinkled systems, All all I see multiplied as high as I can cipher edge but the rim of the farther systems. Wider and wider they spread, expanding, always expanding, Outward and outward and forever outward.
Walt Whitman
A man can be a hero in any profession
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Resist much, obey little.
Walt Whitman
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.
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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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Henceforth I ask not good fortune. I myself am good fortune.
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I swear to you, there are divine things more beautiful than words can tell
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Of all mankind the great poet is the equable man. Not in him but off from him things are grotesque or eccentric or fail of their sanity.
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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
Do anything, but let it produce joy.
Walt Whitman
My words itch at your ears till you understand them
Walt Whitman