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Human bodies are words, myriads of words, (In the best poems re-appears the body, man's or woman's, well-shaped, natural, gay, Every part able, active, receptive, without shame or the need of shame.)
Walt Whitman
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Walt Whitman
Age: 72 †
Born: 1819
Born: May 31
Died: 1892
Died: March 26
Editor
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West Hills
New York
Walter Whitman
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Shaped
More quotes by Walt Whitman
And as to me, I know nothing else but miracles
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From this hour, freedom! Going where I like, my own master.
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I sing the body that is electric! I celebrate the Self yet to be unveiled!
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The ecstasy is so short but the forgetting is so long.
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Ah little recks the laborer, How near his work is holding him to God, The loving Laborer through space and time
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Be not ashamed women, ... You are the gates of the body, and you are the gates of the soul.
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The President eats dirt and excrement for his daily meals, likes it and tries to force it on The States.
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I say no body of men are fit to make Presidents, judges and generals, unless they themselves supply the best specimens of the same and that supplying one or two such specimens illuminates the whole body for a thousand years.
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Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the origin of all poems
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Books are to be called for and supplied on the assumption that the process of reading is not a half-sleep, but in the highest sense an exercise, a gymnastic struggle that the reader is to do something for himself.
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Freedom - to walk free and own no superior.
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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 sound my barbaric yawp over the rooftops of the world.
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All truths wait in all things,/They neither hasten their own delivery nor resist it
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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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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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Oh captain my captain
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Happiness, not in another place but this place...not for another hour, but this hour.
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O the joy of my spirit - it is uncaged - it darts like lightning!
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O captain! My Captain! Our fearful trip is done. The ship has weather'd every wrack The prize we sought is won The port is near, the bells I hear The people all exulting While follow eyes, the steady keel The vessel grim and daring But Heart! Heart! Heart! O the bleeding drops of red Where on the deck my captain lies Fallen cold and dead.
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