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O the joy of my spirit - it is uncaged - it darts like lightning!

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
Like
Darts
Lightning
Joy
Spirit

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I do not ask the wounded person how he feels, I myself become the wounded person.
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To die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier.
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Manhattan streets with their powerful throbs, with beating drums as now, The endless and noisy chorus, the rustle and clank of muskets, (even the sight of the wounded,) Manhattan crowds, with their turbulent musical chorus! Manhattan faces and eyes forever for me.
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Simplicity is the glory of expression.
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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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The future is no more uncertain than the present.
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Those who love each other shall become invincible.
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Each of us inevitable Each of us limitless-each of us with his or her right upon the earth.
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Now I see that there is no such thing as love unreturn'd. The pay is certain, one way or another.
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Most works are most beautiful without ornament.
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What has miserable, inefficient Mexico...to do with the great mission of peopling the New World with a noble race?
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So here I sit in the early candle-light of old age-I and my book-casting backward glances over out travel'd road.
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I think I could turn and live with animals, they are so placid and self-contained, I stand and look at them long and long.
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Something there is more immortal even than the stars.
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When I undertake to tell the best, I find I cannot. My tongue is ineffectual on its pivots, My breath will not be obedient to its organs, I become a dumb man.
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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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The smallest sprout shows there is really no death.
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What stays with you latest and deepest? of curious panics, of hard-fought engagements or sieges tremendous what deepest remains?
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The habit of giving only enhances the desire to give.
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