Quotes from Walt Whitman

Wisdom is of the soul, is not susceptible of proof, is its own proof.

Vago en un viatge perpetu. Tot avança, progressa, res no s'esfondra.

In poems or in speeches I say the word or two that has got to be said, adhere to the body, step with the countless common footsteps, and remind every man and woman of something.

Come, said my Soul Such verses for my Body let us write, (for we are one,) That should I after death invisibly return, Or, long, long hence, in other spheres, There to some group of mates the chants resuming, (Tallying Earth's soil, trees, winds, tumultuous waves,) Ever with pleas'd smiles I may keep on, Ever and ever yet the verses owning — as, first, I here and now, Signing for Soul and Body, set to them my name, WALT WHITMAN

The great poets are to be known by the absence in them of tricks, and by the justification of perfect personal candor. All faults may be forgiven of him who has perfect candor.

Not the book needs so much to be the complete thing, but the reader of the book does.

It is not upon you alone the dark patches fall, the dark threw its patches down upon me also...

Si em vols tornar a veure, busca'm sota les soles de les teves sabates. Amb prou feines sabràs qui sóc o què significo, però igualment et faré bé, a tu [...]. Si no aconsegueixes arribar a mi a la primera, no defalleixis, si no em trobes en un indret, prova-ho en un altre. M'he aturat en algun lloc, i t'espero.

Talk honestly, no one else hears you, and I stay only a minute longer.) Do I contradict myself? Very well then I contradict myself, (I am large, I contain multitudes.) I concentrate toward them that are nigh, I wait on the door-slab.

A leitura está cheia de aromas.»

The words of my book nothing, the drift of it every thing

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...

Si quieres saber donde esta tu corazón, mira donde va tu mente cuando sueñas despierto.

O 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, face to face! To mount the scaffold, to advance to the muzzles of guns with perfect nonchalance! To be indeed a God!

To me, every hour of the light and dark is a miracle

Quédate hoy conmigo, vive conmigo un día y una noche y te mostraré el origen de todos los poemas. Tendrás entonces todo cuanto hay de grande en la Tierra y en el Sol (existen además millones de soles más allá) y nada tomarás ya nunca de segunda ni de tercera mano, ni mirarás más por los ojos de los muertos, ni te nutrirás con el espectro de los libros.

Names are the turning point of who shall be master. - There is so much virtue in names that a nation which produces its own names, haughtily adheres to them, and subordinates others to them, leads all the rest of the nations of the earth. - I also promulge that a nation which has not its own names, but begs them of other nations, has no identity, marches not in front but behind.

but the genius of the United States is not best or most in its executives or legislatures, nor in its ambassadors or authors or colleges or churches or parlors, nor even in its newspapers or inventors . . . but always most in the common people.

We have circled and circled till we have arrived home again—we two

Shall I postpone my acceptation and realization and scream at my eyes, That they turn from gazing up and down the road, And forthwith cypher and show me to a cent, Exactly the contents of one, and exactly the contents of two, and which is ahead?

Camerado, isto não é um livro, Quem nele tocar, toca num homem

I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey-work of the stars, And the pismire is equally perfect, and a grain of sand, and the egg of the wren, And the tree-toad is a chef-d'oeuvre for the highest, And the running blackberry would adorn the parlors of heaven, And the narrowest hinge in my hand puts to scorn all machinery, And the cow crunching with depress'd head surpasses any statue, And a mouse is miracle enough to stagger sextillions of infidels.

Enough to live, enough to merely be.

Possente mi sovrasta la vita che non si esibisce, ma che contiene tutto il resto