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Manhattan crowds, with their turbulent musical chorus! Manhattan faces and eyes forever for me.
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
Chorus
Manhattan
Crowds
Musical
Eyes
Forever
Faces
Eye
Turbulent
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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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O to speed where there is space enough and air enough at last!
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What beauty there is in words what a lurking curious charm in the sound some words.
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Long and long has the grass been growing, Long and long has the rain been falling, Long has the globe been rolling round.
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O Captain my Captain! our fearful trip is done, / The ship has weathered every rack, the prize we sought is won
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The female that loves unrequited sleeps, And the male that loves unrequited sleeps, The head of the money-maker that plotted all day sleeps, And the enraged and treacherous dispositions, all, all sleep.
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That the hands of the sisters Death and Night incessantly softly wash again and ever again, this soiled world.
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Roaming in thought over the Universe, I saw the little that is Good steadily hastening towards immortality, And the vast all that is called Evil I saw hastening to merge itself and become lost and dead.
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I act as the tongue of you, ... tied in your mouth . . . . in mine it begins to be loosened.
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I discover myself on the verge of a usual mistake.
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There's a man in the world who is never turned down, whatever he chances to stray he gets the glad hand in the populous town, or out where the farmers makes hay he's greeted with pleasure on deserts of sand, and deep in the aisles of the woods wherever he goes there's a welcoming hand-he's the man who delivers the goods.
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There is no object so soft but it makes a hub for the wheeled universe.
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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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A writer can do nothing for men more necessary, satisfying, than just simply to reveal to them the infinite possibility of their own souls.
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