I celebrate myself, and sing myself, And what I assume you shall assume, For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.

That the hands of the sisters Death and Night incessantly softly wash again and ever again, this soiled world.

Love the earth and sun and animals, Despise riches, give alms to everyone that asks, Stand up for the stupid and crazy, Devote your income and labor to others... And your very flesh shall be a great poem.

Great is the faith of the flush of knowledge and of the investigation of the depths of qualities and things.

Strong and content I travel the open road.

Simplicity is the glory of expression.

The truth is simple. If it was complicated, everyone would understand it.