There was a child went forth everyday, And the first object he looked upon and received with wonder or pity or dread, that object he became, And that object became part of him for the day or a certain part of the day... or for many years or stretching cycles of years.
Walt WhitmanO Captain my Captain! our fearful trip is done, / The ship has weathered every rack, the prize we sought is won
Walt WhitmanSeasons pursuing each other the indescribable crowd is gathered, it is the fourth of Seventh-month, (what salutes of cannon and small arms!
Walt WhitmanI am too not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable, I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.
Walt WhitmanSilence? What can New York-noisy, roaring, rumbling, tumbling, bustling, story, turbulent New York-have to do with silence? Amid the universal clatter, the incessant din of business, the all swallowing vortex of the great money whirlpool-who has any, even distant, idea of the profound repose......of silence?
Walt Whitman