Walter ‘Walt’ Whitman:
(West Hills (New York), 31 May 1819 – Camden (New Jersey), 26 March 1892).
American poet, journalist and essayist whose poetry collection Leaves of Grass marked a milestone in the history of American literature. He is what Americans call a ‘self-made’ man: he started out as an errand boy in a law firm, then worked in a print shop, then became a village schoolteacher, founded several magazines, built houses, and planned and wrote further on his magnum opus, Leaves of Grass, meanwhile. Whitman never married, never left America, never pursued property and wealth, belonged to no society and preferred to associate with ordinary people rather than the rich, and he was always optimistic and cheerful. He was a distinct, imposing figure, tall in stature, slow-moving, tolerant, democratic, receptive, and towards everyone generous and of good will.
Nothing endures but personal qualities.
Some people are so much sunshine to the square inch.
I like the scientific spirit—the holding off, the being sure but not too sure, the willingness to surrender ideas when the evidence is against them: this is ultimately fine—it always keeps the way beyond open—always gives life, thought, affection, the whole man, a chance to try over again after a mistake—after a wrong guess.
Resist much, obey little.
Happiness, not in another place but this place. Not for another hour but this hour.
From this hour, freedom! Going where I like, my own master.
Do anything, but let it produce joy.
Not I, or anyone else can travel that road for you. You must travel it by yourself. It’s 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.
I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable.
If anything is sacred, the human body is sacred.
And as to me, I know nothing else but miracles.
Whatever satisfies the soul is truth.
I exist as I am, that is enough.
Re-examine all you have been told. Dismiss what insults your soul.
We were together. I forget the rest.
If you done it, it ain’t bragging.
I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey-work of the stars.
I discover myself on the verge of a usual mistake.
Now I will do nothing but listen to accrue what I hear in this song. To let sounds contribute toward it. I hear the sound I love. The sound of the human voice.
What is that you express in your eyes? It seems to me more than all the print I have read in my life.
All truth waits in all things.
Keep your face always toward the sunshine – and shadows will fall behind you.
Peace is always beautiful.
Love the earth and sun and animals. Despise riches, give alms to everyone that asks. Devote your income and labor to others… 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.
