The untold want, by life and land ne’er granted,Now, Voyager, sail thou forth, to seek and find.
Keep your face always toward the sunshine – and shadows will fall behind you.
Re-examine all you have been told. Dismiss what insults your soul.
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…
I am larger, better than I thought; I did not know I held so much goodness.All seems beautiful to me.Whoever denies me, it shall not trouble me; Whoever accepts me, he or she shall be blessed, and shall bless me.
TO the States or any one of them, or any city of the States, Resist much, obey little, Once unquestioning obedience, once fully enslaved,Once fully enslaved, no nation, state, city of this earth, ever after-ward resumes its liberty.
Of Equality–as if it harm’d me, giving others the same chances and rights as myself–as if it were not indispensable to my own rights that others possess the same.
I have said that the soul is not more than the body,And I have said that the body is not more than the soul,And nothing, not God, is greater to one than one’s-self is,
I hear and behold God in every object, yet understand God not in the least, Nor do I understand who there can be more wonderful than myself.
Some people are so much sunshine to the square inch.
I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I loveIf you want me again look for me under your boot-soles.You will hardly know who I am or what I meanBut I shall be good health to you nonethelessAnd filter and fibre your blood.
poor boy! I never knew you, Yet I think I could not refuse this moment to die for you, if that would save you
What is that you express in your eyes? It seems to me more than all the print I have read in my life.
I discover myself on the verge of a usual mistake.
If you want me again look for me under your boot soles.
I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable, I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.
I act as the tongue of you,… tied in your mouth . . . . in mine it begins to be loosened.
This is thy hour O Soul, thy free flight into the wordless, Away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done,Thee fully forth emerging, silent, gazing, pondering the themes thou lovest best. Night, sleep, and the stars.
I celebrate myself, and sing myself, And what I assume you shall assume,For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
This is the city, and I am one of the citizens/Whatever interests the rest interests me
For we cannot tarry here,We must march my darlings, we must bear the brunt of danger,We, the youthful sinewy races, all the rest on us depend, Pioneers! O pioneers!
The press of my foot to the earth springs a hundred affections,They scorn the best I can do to relate them.
Here the frailest leaves of me and yet my strongest lasting, Here I shade and hide my thoughts, I myself do not expose them, And yet they expose me more than all my other poems
Why are there trees I never walk under but large and melodious thoughts descend upon me?
And I or you pocketless of a dime, may purchase the pick of the earth.
Songs of myselfClear and sweet is my soul, and clear and sweet is all that is not my soul. Lack one lacks both, and the unseen is proved by the seen, Till that becomes unseen and receives proof in its turn.
O the joy of my spirit–it is uncaged–it darts like lightning!It is not enough to have this globe or a certain time,I will have thousands of globes and all time.
I swear the earth shall surely be complete to him or her who shall be complete,The earth remains jagged and broken only to him or her who remains jagged and broken.
Battles are lost in the same spirit in which they are won.
not one escaped to tell the fall of Alamo,The hundred & fifty are dumb yet at Alamo.
Do I contradict myself? Very well, then, I contradict myself; I am large — I contain multitudes.
The art of art, the glory of expression and the sunshine of the light of letters, is simplicity.
Whoever is not in his coffin and the dark grave, let him know he has enough.
I do not snivel that snivel the world over,That months are vacuums and the ground but wallow and filth,That life is a suck and a sell, and nothing remains at the end but threadbare crape and tears.
A morning-glory at my window satisfies me more than the metaphysics of books.
I have learned that to be with those I like is enough
To drive free, to love free, to court destruction with taunts. One brief house of madness and joy!
God is a mean-spirited, pugnacious bully bent on revenge against His children for failing to live up to his impossible standards.
All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses, And to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier.
have you learned the lessons only of those who admired you, and were tender with you, and stood aside for you? Have you not learned great lessons from those who braced themselves against you, and disputed passage with you?
To the real artist in humanity, what are called bad manners are often the most picturesque and significant of all.
You must not know too much or be too precise or scientific about birds and trees and flowers and watercraft; a certain free-margin , or even vagueness – ignorance, credulity – helps your enjoyment of these things.
Sail Forth- Steer for the deep waters only. Reckless O soul, exploring. I with thee and thou with me. For we are bound where mariner has not yet dared go. And we will risk the ship, ourselves, and all.
Let your soul stand cool and composed before a million universes.
My words itch at your ears till you understand them
What stays with you longest and deepest? Of curious panics, of hard-fought engagements or sieges tremendous what deepest remains?
Why should I be afraid to trust myself to you? I am not afraid, I have been well brought forward by you…
Behold I do not give lectures or a little charity, when I give I give myself.
And whoever walks a furlong without sympathy walks to his own funeral drest in his shroud.
My spirit has pass’d in compassion and determination around the whole earth.I have look’d for equals and lovers an found them ready for me in all lands,I think some divine rapport has equalized me with them
One world is aware and by far the largest to me, and that is myself, / And whether I come to my own to-day or in ten thousand or ten / million years, / I can cheerfully take it now, or with equal cheerfulness I can wait.
Only themselves understand themselves and the like of themselves,As souls only understand 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.One world is aware, and by the far the largest to me, and that is myself.
To touch my person to some one else’s is about as much as I can stand,
Or may-be one who is puzzled at me.As if I were not puzzled at myself!
I think I will do nothing for a long time but listen,And accrue what I hear into myself…and let sound contribute toward me.
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.
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.
O to be self-balanced for contingencies, to confront night, storms, hunger, ridicule, accidents, rebuffs, as the trees and animals do.
Over the mountain growths, disease and sorrow, An uncaught bird is ever hovering, hovering,High in the purer, happier air.
O you youths, Western youths,So impatient, full of action, full of manly pride and friendship,Plain I see you Western youths, see you tramping with the foremost,Pioneers! O pioneers!
The shallow consider liberty a release from all law, from every constraint. The wise man sees in it, on the contrary, the potent Law of Laws.
Urge and urge and urge,Always the procreant urge of the world.
ThoughtOf equality- as if it harm’d me, giving others the same chancesand rights as myself- as if it were not indispensable to my own rights that others possess the same.
Mark the spirit of invention everywhere, thy rapid patents, Thy continual workshops, foundries, risen or rising, See, from their chimneys how the tall flame-fires stream.
Press close, bare-bosomed Night! Press close, magnetic, nourishing Night!Night of south winds! Night of the large, few stars!Still, nodding Night! Mad, naked, Summer Night!from Strophe 21, “Song of Myself
I do not ask the wounded person how he feels, I myself become the wounded person.
I do not say these things for a dollar, or to fill up the time while I wait for a boat;
Re-examine all that you have been told, dismiss that which insults your soul.
Give me such shows–give me the streets of Manhattan!
I visit the orchards of God and look at the spheric productAnd look at quintillions ripened, and look at quintillions green.
Give me juicy autumnal fruit, ripe and red from the orc
Camerado this is no book. Who touches this touches a man.
Camerado this is no book. Who touches this touches a man.
It is native personality and that alone that endows a man to stand before presidents or generals or in any distinguished collection with aplomb -and not culture or any intellect whatever.
Do I contradict myself? Very well then I contradict myself (I am large I contain multitudes).
There is that indescribable freshness and unconsciousness about an illiterate person that humbles and mocks the power of the noblest expressive genius.
When lilacs last in the dooryard bloom’d And the great star early droop’d in the western sky the night I mourn’d – and yet shall mourn with ever-returning spring.
Whoever is not in his coffin and the dark grave let him know he has enough.
Behold I do not give lectures or a little charity When I give I give myself.
Behold! I do not give lectures on a little charity. When I give I give myself.
Behold! I do not give lectures on a little charity. When I give I give myself.
The port is near the bells I hear the people all exulting While follow eyes the steady keel the vessel grim and daring But O heart! heart! heart! O the bleeding drops of red Where on the deck my captain lies Fallen cold and dead.
I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey-work of the stars.
To have great poets there must be great audiences too.
I am as bad as the worst but thank God I am as good as the best.
Do I contradict myself? Very well then I contradict myself I am large I contain multitudes.
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 art of art the glory of expression and the sunshine of the light of letters is simplicity: nothing is better than simplicity.
I loafe and invite my soul I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.
Out of every fruition of success no matter what comes forth something to make a new effort necessary.
Out of every fruition of success no matter what comes forth something to make a new effort necessary.
I see great things in baseball. It’s our game – the American game.
Give me odorous at sunrise a garden of beautiful flowers where I can walk undisturbed.
I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey-work of the stars.
He most honors my style who learns under it to destroy the teacher.
And I will show that nothing can happen more beautiful than death.
The beauty of independence, departure, actions that rely on themselves.
Have you learned the lessons only of those who admired you, and were tender with you, and stood aside for you? Have you not learned great lessons from those who braced themselves against you, and disputed passage with you?
Viewed freely, the English language is the accretion and growth of every dialect, race, and range of time, and is both the free and compacted composition of all.
A great city is that which has the greatest men and women.
I am as bad as the worst, but, thank God, I am as good as the best.
Judging from the main portions of the history of the world, so far, justice is always in jeopardy.
There is that indescribable freshness and unconsciousness about an illiterate person that humbles and mocks the power of the noblest expressive genius.
I say to mankind, Be not curious about God. For I, who am curious about each, am not curious about God – I hear and behold God in every object, yet understand God not in the least.
To have great poets, there must be great audiences.
I no doubt deserved my enemies, but I don’t believe I deserved my friends.
After you have exhausted what there is in business, politics, conviviality, and so on – have found that none of these finally satisfy, or permanently wear – what remains? Nature remains.
I have learned that to be with those I like is enough.