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Give me solitude, give me Nature, give me again O Nature your primal sanities!
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
Sanity
Solitude
Nature
Give
Giving
Primal
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I am the man, I suffered, I was there.
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When I give, I give myself.
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Battles are lost in the same spirit in which they are won.
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I find letters from God dropt in the street, and every one is sign'd by God's name.
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Judging from the main portions of the history of the world, so far, justice is always in jeopardy.
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I give you my hand, I give you my love more precious than money, I give you myself before preaching or law Will you give me yourself?
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I say that democracy can never prove itself beyond cavil, until it founds and luxuriantly grows its own forms of art, poems, schools, theology, displacing all that exists, or that has been produced anywhere in the past, under opposite influences.
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I love doctors and hate their medicine.
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Happiness, not in another place but this place...not for another hour, but this hour.
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Re-examine all that you have been told... dismiss that which insults your soul.
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Stranger, if you passing meet me and desire to speak to me, why should you not speak to me? And why should I not speak to you?
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I will You, in all, Myself, with promise to never desert you, To which I sign my name.
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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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A woman waits for me, she contains all, nothing is lacking, Yet all were lacking if sex were lacking, or if the moisture of the right man were lacking.
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The moon gives you light, and the bugles and the drums give you music, and my heart, O my soldiers, my veterans, my heart gives you love.
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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.
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