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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
Manhattan
Crowds
Musical
Eyes
Forever
Faces
Eye
Turbulent
Chorus
More quotes by Walt Whitman
The smallest sprout shows there is really no death.
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There is no week nor day nor hour when tyranny may not enter upon this country, if the people lose their roughness and spirit of defiance.
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Unscrew the locks from the doors ! Unscrew the doors themselves from their jambs !
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Failing to fetch me at first, keep encouraged. Missing me one place, search another. I stop somewhere waiting for you.
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Produce great men, the rest follows.
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Will you seek afar off? You surely come back at last, In things best known to you, finding the best, or as good as the best, In folks nearest to you finding the sweetest, strongest, lovingest Happiness, knowledge, not in another place, but this place-not for another hour, but this hour.
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I meet new Walt Whitmans everyday. There are a dozen of them afloat. I don't know which Walt Whitman I am.
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The question, O me! so sad, recurring - What good amid these, O me, O life? That you are here - that life exists and identity, that the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.
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We also ascend dazzling and tremendous as the sun, We found our own O my soul in the calm and cool of the daybreak.
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Now understand me well. It is provided in the essence of things that from any fruition of success, no matter what, shall come forth something to make a greater struggle necessary.
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I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable.
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The mother condemned for a witch and burnt with dry wood, and her children gazing on The hounded slave that flags in the race and leans by the fence, blowing and covered with sweat, The twinges that sting like needles his legs and neck, The murderous buckshot and the bullets, All these I feel or am.
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Not I, nor anyone else can travel that road for you. You must travel it by yourself. It is not far. It is within reach. Perhaps you have been on it since you were born, and did not know. Perhaps it is everywhere - on water and land.
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When I give, I give myself.
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I think of few heroic actions, which cannot be traced to the artistical impulse. He who does great deeds, does them from his innate sensitiveness to moral beauty.
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The art of art, the glory of expression and the sunshine of the light of letters, is simplicity.
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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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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 have learned that to be with those I like is enough.
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Clear and sweet is my soul, clear and sweet is all that is not my soul.
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