People who serve you without love get even behind your back.

There is no object so soft but it makes a hub for the wheeled universe.

Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, I am large, I contain multitudes.

I do not think seventy years is the time of a man or woman, Nor that seventy millions of years is the time of a man or woman, Nor that years will ever stop the existence of me, or any one else.

There is no flaw or vacuum in the amount of the truth - but all is truth without exception; And henceforth I will go celebrate any thing I see or am, And sing and laugh and deny nothing.

I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey-work of the stars.

Loafe with me on the grass—loose the stop from your throat; Not words, not music or rhyme I want—not custom or lecture, not even the best; Only the lull I like, the hum of your valved voice.