Oxen that rattle the yoke and chain or halt in the leafy shade, what is that you express in your eyes? It seems to me more than all the print I have read in my life.
And I will show that nothing can happen more beautiful than death.
The past and the present wilt. I have fill’d them, emptied them, And proceed to fill my next fold of the future.
The scent of these arm-pits is aroma finer than prayer...
Slang, too, is the wholesome fermentation or eructation of those processes eternally active in language, by which froth and specks are thrown up, mostly to pass away; though occasionally to settle and permanently chrystallize.
Why should I pray? Why should I venerate and be ceremonious?
Sun so generous it shall be you- Leaves of Grass.
The poet is individual – he is complete in himself: the others are as good as he; only he sees it, and they do not.
To me, every cubic inch of space is a miracle.
I speak the password primeval.
The new rule shall rule as the soul rules, and as the love and justice and equality that are in the soul rule.
Stout as a horse.
The cleanest expression is that which finds no sphere worthy of itself, and makes one.
No dainty dolce affettuoso I.
I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey work of the stars.
Let your soul stand cool and composed before a million universes.
Be curious, not judgmental.
Dismiss whatever insults your soul.
Behold I do not give lectures or a little charity, When I give I give myself.
I exist as I am, that is enough.