Quotes About Existence

I exist as I am, that is enough, If not other in the world be aware I sit content, And if each and all be aware I sit content.

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 far the largest to me, and that is myself

Whoever you are, how superb and how divine is your body, or any part of it!

O LIVING always, always dying! O the burials of me past and present, O me while I stride ahead, material, visible, imperious as ever; O me, what I was for years, now dead, (I lament not, I am content;) O to disengage myself from those corpses of me, which I turn and look at where I cast them, To pass on, (O living! always living!) and leave the corpses behind.

To quote from Whitman, 'O me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless... of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?' Answer. That you are here — that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. That the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?

I loafe and invite my soul, I lean and loafe at my ease . . . observing a spear of summer grass.

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

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

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

Enough to live, enough to merely be.

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

Lo, I or you, Or woman, man, or state, known or unknown, We seeming solid wealth, strength, beauty build, But really build eidolons.

When I Read the Book When I read the book, the biography famous,   And is this then (said I) what the author calls a man's life?   And so will some one when I am dead and gone write my life?   (As if any man really knew aught of my life,   Why even I myself I often think know little or nothing of my real life,   Only a few hints, a few diffused faint clews and indirections   I seek for my own use to trace out here.)

Tutta la teoria dell'universo si rivolge immancabilmente a un unico individuo - ossia a Te

Do you think I could walk pleasantly and well-suited toward annihilation?

That you are here - that life exists and identity, That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.

Én vagyok az, akinek fáj a szerelmes szerelem; Vonz a föld? Nem fájva vonz-e minden anyag minden anyagot? Az én testem is így van mindennel, ami útjába kerül, vagy amit megismer.

Night, sleep, death and the stars.

To me every hour of the light and dark is a miracle, Every cubic inch of space is a miracle

Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the origin of all poems, You shall possess the good of the earth and sun, (there are millions of suns left,)

seems to me that everything in the light and air ought to be happy; Whoever is not in his coffin and the dark grave, let him know he has enough.

I have not once had the least idea who or what I am, / But that before all my arrogant poems the real Me stands yet untouch'd, untold, altogether unreached... / ...I have not really understood any thing, not a single object, and...no man ever can.

Were you thinking that those were the words, those upright lines? those curves, angles, dots? No, those are not the words, the substantial words are in the ground and sea, They are in the air, they are in you.

When I read the book, the biography famous, And is this then (said I) what the author calls a man's life? And so will some one when I am dead and gone write my life? (As if any man really knew aught my life, Why even I myself I often think know little or nothing of my real life, Only a few hints, a few diffused faint clews and indirections I seek for my own use to trace out here.)