What do you think has become of the young and old men? And what do you think has become of the women and children? They are alive and well somewhere, The smallest sprout shows there is really no death, And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait at the end to arrest it, And ceas'd the moment life appear'd. All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses, And to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier.
Walt WhitmanI meet new Walt Whitmans everyday. There are a dozen of them afloat. I don't know which Walt Whitman I am.
Walt WhitmanA child said What is the grass? fetching it to me with full hands; How could I answer the child? I do not know what it is any more than he.
Walt WhitmanTo me, every hour of the light and dark is a miracle, every inch of space is a miracle, every square yard of the surface of the earth is spread with the same, every cubic foot of the interior swarms with the same; every spear of grass-the frames, limbs, organs, of men and women, and all that concerns them, all these to me are unspeakably perfect miracles.
Walt Whitman