quotes by Walt Whitman
(showing 1- 20 of 95)
"Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, I am large, I contain multitudes. "
— Walt Whitman
— Walt Whitman
"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."
— Walt Whitman
— Walt Whitman
"This is what you shall do: Love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to everyone that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence toward the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unknown or to any man or number of men, go freely with powerful uneducated persons and with the young and with the mothers of families, read these leaves in the open air every season of every year of your life, re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your own soul, and your very flesh shall be a great poem and have the richest fluency not only in its words but in the silent lines of its lips and face and between the lashes of your eyes and in every motion and joint of your body."
— Walt Whitman
— Walt Whitman
"Failing to fetch me at first, keep encouraged. Missing me one place, search another. I stop somewhere waiting for you."
— Walt Whitman
— Walt Whitman
"I am as bad as the worst, but, thank God, I am as good as the best. "
— Walt Whitman
— Walt Whitman
"Long enough have you dream'd contemptible dreams,
Now I wash the gum from your eyes,
You must habit yourself to the dazzle of the light
and of every moment of your life"
— Walt Whitman (Leaves of Grass)
Now I wash the gum from your eyes,
You must habit yourself to the dazzle of the light
and of every moment of your life"
— Walt Whitman (Leaves of Grass)
"Argue not concerning God,…re-examine all that you have been told at church or school or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your soul…"
— Walt Whitman
— Walt Whitman
"I exist as i am, that is enough. If no other in the world be aware i sit content. If each and all be aware i sit content."
— Walt Whitman
— Walt Whitman
""The art of art, the glory of expression and the sunshine of the light of letters, is simplicity.""
— Walt Whitman
— Walt Whitman
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art
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"I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable,
I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world."
— Walt Whitman (Song of Myself)
I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world."
— Walt Whitman (Song of Myself)
"I act as the tongue of you,
... tied in your mouth . . . . in mine it begins to be loosened."
— Walt Whitman
... tied in your mouth . . . . in mine it begins to be loosened."
— Walt Whitman
"Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, I am large, I contain multitudes.
"
— Walt Whitman (Song of Myself)
"
— Walt Whitman (Song of Myself)
"All truths wait in all things,
They neither hasten their own delivery nor resist it,
They do not need the obstetric forceps of the surgeon,
The insignificant is as big to me as any,
(What is less or more than a touch)..."
— Walt Whitman
They neither hasten their own delivery nor resist it,
They do not need the obstetric forceps of the surgeon,
The insignificant is as big to me as any,
(What is less or more than a touch)..."
— Walt Whitman
"Out of the cradle endlessly rocking,
Out of the mocking-bird’s throat, the musical shuttle,
Out of the Ninth-month midnight,
Over the sterile sands, and the fields beyond, where the child, leaving his bed, wander’d
alone, bare-headed, barefoot,
Down from the shower’d halo,
Up from the mystic play of shadows, twining and twisting as if they were alive,
Out from the patches of briers and blackberries,
From the memories of the bird that chanted to me,
From your memories, sad brother—from the fitful risings and fallings I heard,
From under that yellow half-moon, late-risen, and swollen as if with tears,
From those beginning notes of sickness and love, there in the transparent mist,
From the thousand responses of my heart, never to cease,
From the myriad thence-arous’d words,
From the word stronger and more delicious than any,
From such, as now they start, the scene revisiting,
As a flock, twittering, rising, or overhead passing,
Borne hither—ere all eludes me, hurriedly,
A man—yet by these tears a little boy again,
Throwing myself on the sand, confronting the waves,
I, chanter of pains and joys, uniter of here and hereafter,
Taking all hints to use them—but swiftly leaping beyond them,
A reminiscence sing. "
— Walt Whitman (Song of Myself)
Out of the mocking-bird’s throat, the musical shuttle,
Out of the Ninth-month midnight,
Over the sterile sands, and the fields beyond, where the child, leaving his bed, wander’d
alone, bare-headed, barefoot,
Down from the shower’d halo,
Up from the mystic play of shadows, twining and twisting as if they were alive,
Out from the patches of briers and blackberries,
From the memories of the bird that chanted to me,
From your memories, sad brother—from the fitful risings and fallings I heard,
From under that yellow half-moon, late-risen, and swollen as if with tears,
From those beginning notes of sickness and love, there in the transparent mist,
From the thousand responses of my heart, never to cease,
From the myriad thence-arous’d words,
From the word stronger and more delicious than any,
From such, as now they start, the scene revisiting,
As a flock, twittering, rising, or overhead passing,
Borne hither—ere all eludes me, hurriedly,
A man—yet by these tears a little boy again,
Throwing myself on the sand, confronting the waves,
I, chanter of pains and joys, uniter of here and hereafter,
Taking all hints to use them—but swiftly leaping beyond them,
A reminiscence sing. "
— Walt Whitman (Song of Myself)