Walt Whitman Quotes

I am of old and young, of the foolish as much as the wise, Regardless of others, ever regardful of others, Maternal as well as paternal, a child as well as a man, Stuffed with the stuff that is course, and stuffed with the stuff that is fine.

And as to me, I know nothing else but miracles

What do you suppose will satisfy the soul, except to walk free and own no superior?

Logic and sermons never convince, The damp of the night drives deeper into my soul.

I give you my hand, I give you my love more precious than money, I give you myself before preaching or law; Will you give me yourself?

Something there is more immortal even than the stars.

What beauty there is in words; what a lurking curious charm in the sound some words.

It is a beautiful truth that all men contain something of the artist in them. And perhaps it is the case that the greatest artists live and die, the world and themselves alike ignorant what they possess.

There is no place like it, no place with an atom of its glory, pride, and exultancy. It lays its hand upon a man's bowels; he grows drunk with ecstasy; he grows young and full of glory, he feels that he can never die.

Give me odorous at sunrise a garden of beautiful flowers where I can walk undisturbed.

The future is no more uncertain than the present.

Either define the moment or the moment will define you.

I Think it is lost.....but nothing is ever lost nor can be lost . The body sluggish, aged, cold, the ember left from earlier fires shall duly flame again.

O amazement of things-even the least particle!

Happiness, not in another place but this place...not for another hour, but this hour.

I sing the body electric.

Camden was originally an accident, but I shall never be sorry I was left over in Camden. It has brought me blessed returns.

The beautiful uncut hair of graves.

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

To speak in literature with the perfect rectitude and insouciance of the movements of animals and the unimpeachable of the sentiment of trees in the woods and grass by the roadside is the flawless triumph of art.

If you want me again look for me under your boot soles.

The great city is that which has the greatest man or woman: if it be a few ragged huts, it is still the greatest city in the whole world.

Charity and personal force are the only investments worth anything.

When lilacs last in the dooryard bloom'd / And the great star early droop'd in the western sky in the night, / I mourn'd, and yet shall mourn with ever-returning spring.

Love, that is day and night - love, that is sun and moon and stars, Love, that is crimson, sumptuous, sick with perfume, no other words but words of love, no other thought but love.

A simple separate person is not contained between his hat and his boots.

Will you seek afar off? You surely come back at last, In things best known to you, finding the best, or as good as the best, In folks nearest to you finding the sweetest, strongest, lovingest; Happiness, knowledge, not in another place, but this place-not for another hour, but this hour.

Over all the sky - the sky! Far, far out of reach, studded with eternal stars.

O Captain! My Captain! our fearful trip is done.

I will You, in all, Myself, with promise to never desert you, To which I sign my name.

Books are to be called for and supplied on the assumption that the process of reading is not a half-sleep, but in the highest sense an exercise, a gymnastic struggle; that the reader is to do something for himself.

O joy of suffering! To struggle against great odds! to meet enemies undaunted! To be entirely alone with them! to find how much one can stand! To look strife, torture, prison, popular odium, death, face to face! To mount the scaffold! to advance to the muzzles of guns with perfect nonchalance! To be indeed a God!

The art of art... is simplicity.

You will hardly know who I am or what I mean, But I shall be good health to you nevertheless, And filter and fibre your blood. Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged, Missing me one place search another, I stop somewhere waiting for you.

Now I see that there is no such thing as love unreturn'd. The pay is certain, one way or another.

Not I, nor anyone else can travel that road for you. You must travel it by yourself. It is not far. It is within reach. Perhaps you have been on it since you were born, and did not know. Perhaps it is everywhere - on water and land.

Once I passed through a populous city imprinting my brain for future use with its shows, architecture, customs, traditions, Yet now of all that city I remember only a woman I Casually met there who detained me for love of me, Day by day and night by night we were together—all else Has long been forgotten by me, I remember I say only that woman who passionately clung To me, Again we wander, we love, we separate again, Again she holds me by the hand, I must not go, I see her close beside me with silent lips sad and tremulous.

Americans should know the universe itself as a road, as many roads, as roads for traveling souls.

I exist as I am, that is enough, If no other in the world be aware, I sit content, And if each and all be aware, I sit content.

The dirtiest book of all is the expurgated book.

I know I am deathless. No doubt I have died myself ten thousand times before. I laugh at what you call dissolution, and I know the amplitude of time.

Pointing to another world will never stop vice among us; shedding light over this world can alone help us.

Why should I wish to see God better than this day? I see something of God each hour of the twenty-four, and each moment then, In the faces of men and women I see God, and in my own face in the glass; I find letters from God dropped in the street, and every one is signed by God's name, And I leave them where they are, for I know that others will punctually come forever and ever.

O public road, I say back I am not afraid to leave you, yet I love you, you express me better than I can express myself.

Agonies are one of my changes of garments.

Stranger, if you passing meet me and desire to speak to me, why should you not speak to me? And why should I not speak to you?

In nothing is there more evolution than the American mind.

I tramp a perpetual journey.