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My little notebooks were beginnings - they were the ground into which I dropped the seed... I would work in this way when I was out in the crowds, then put the stuff together at home.
Walt Whitman -
And as to you Death, and you bitter hug of mortality, it is idle to try to alarm me.
Walt Whitman
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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 -
This is the city, and I am one of the citizens/Whatever interests the rest interests me.
Walt Whitman -
To behold the day-break! The little light fades the immense and diaphanous shadows, The air tastes good to my palate.
Walt Whitman -
All truths wait in all things, They neither hasten their own delivery nor resist it.
Walt Whitman -
I say you shall yet find the friend you were looking for.
Walt Whitman -
Now I will do nothing but listen to accrue what I hear into this song. To let sounds contribute toward it. I hear the sound I love. The sound of the human voice. I hear all sounds running together.
Walt Whitman
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Seasons pursuing each other the indescribable crowd is gathered, it is the fourth of Seventh-month, what salutes of cannon and small arms!
Walt Whitman -
I am satisfied ... I see, dance, laugh, sing.
Walt Whitman -
I pass death with the dying and birth with the new-washed babe, and am not contained between my hat and my boots.
Walt Whitman -
The powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse.
Walt Whitman -
A murmuring, fateful, giant voice, out of the earth and sky, Voice of a mighty dying tree in the Redwood forest dense... The wood-spirits came from their haunts of a thousand years, to join the refrain; But in my soul I plainly heard. Murmuring out of its myriad leaves, Down from its lofty top, rising two hundred feet high, Out of its stalwart trunk and limbs - out of its foot-thick bark, That chant of the seasons and time - chant, not of the past only, but of the future.
Walt Whitman -
I discover myself on the verge of a usual mistake.
Walt Whitman
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Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the origin of all poems, You shall possess the good of the earth and sun.... there are millions of suns left, You shall no longer take things at second or third hand.... nor look through the eyes of the dead.... nor feed on the spectres in books, You shall not look through my eyes either, nor take things from me, You shall listen to all sides and filter them from yourself.
Walt Whitman -
The earth does not argue, Is not pathetic, has no arrangements, Does not scream, haste, persuade, threaten, promise, Makes no discriminations, has no conceivable failures, Closes nothing, refuses nothing, shuts none out.
Walt Whitman -
Day by day and night by night we were together - all else has long been forgotten by me.
Walt Whitman -
I meet new Walt Whitmans everyday. There are a dozen of them afloat. I don't know which Walt Whitman I am.
Walt Whitman -
An electric chain seems to vibrate, as it were, between our brain and him or her preserved there in a Daguerreotype so well by the limner's cunning. Time, space, both are annihilated, and we identify the semblance with the reality.
Walt Whitman -
A writer can do nothing for men more necessary, satisfying, than just simply to reveal to them the infinite possibility of their own souls.
Walt Whitman
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Swiftly arose and spread around me the peace and knowledge that pass all the argument of the earth, And I know that the hand of God is the promise of my own, And I know that the spirit of God is the brother of my own, And that all the men ever born are also my brothers, and the women my sisters and lovers, And that a kelson of the creation is love.
Walt Whitman -
The ecstasy is so short but the forgetting is so long.
Walt Whitman -
To the garden of the world anew descending, Potent mates, daughters, sons, preluding, The love, the life of their bodies, meaning and being, Curious here behold my resurrection after slumber, The revolving cycles in their wide sweep having brought me again, amorous, mature, all beautiful to me, all wondrous, My limbs and the quivering fire that ever plays through them, for reasons, most wondrous, Existing I peer and penetrate still, Content with the present, content with the past, By my side or back of me Eve following, Or in front, and I following her just the same.
Walt Whitman -
Be not dishearten'd -- Affection shall solve the problems of Freedom yet; Those who love each other shall become invincible.
Walt Whitman