Quotes About Connection

I am what is around me.

One must read poetry with one's nerves.

Love is like breathing. You take it in and let it out.

Accept what people offer. Drink their milkshakes. Take their love.

Look, don't just stare at the pages," I used to tell my students. "Become the characters. Live inside the book.

It is all connected Dominick," she said. "Life is not a series of isolated ponds & puddles; life is this river you see below, before you. It flows from the past through the present on it's way to the future.

I love Mickey Mouse more than any woman I have ever known.

She touched me once And life then stopped. She held my hand, My frog heart hopped. She left my mouth And formed a smile With lips that promised: "In a while." I look, I hope, I stand, a dunce— Where is the one who touched me once?

This is what you should do; love the Earth and sun and the animals...

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 celebrate myself, and what I assume you shall assume, For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you. I loafe and invite my soul, I lean and loafe at my ease... observing a spear of summer grass."

Now I see the secret of the making of the best persons. It is to grow in the open air and to eat and sleep with the earth.

I merely stir, press, feel with my fingers, and am happy,To touch my person to someone else's is about as much as I can stand.

Out of the cradle endlessly rocking,Out of the mocking-bird's throat, the musical shuttle,Out of the Ninth-month midnight.

Walt Whitman, a kosmos, of Manhattan the son,Turbulent, fleshy, sensual, eating, drinking and breeding,No sentimentalist, no stander above men and women or apart from them,No more modest than immodest.Unscrew the locks from the doors!Unscrew the doors themselves from their jambs!

Through you I drain the pent-up rivers of myself,In you I wrap a thousand onward years.

To have great poets, there must be great audiences, too.

As Adam early in the morning,Walking forth from the bower refresh'd with sleep,Behold me where I pass, hear my voice, approach,Touch me, touch the palm of your hand to my body as I pass,Be not afraid of my body.

I celebrate myself, and sing myself,And what I assume you shall assume,For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.I loafe and invite my soul,I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.

In the faces of men and women I see God, and in my own face in the glass, I find letters from God dropped in the street, and every one is signed by God's name. And I leave them where they are, for I know that wherever I go, others will punctually come for ever and ever.

I am the poet of the Body and I am the poet of the Soul.

Swiftly arose and spread around me the peace and knowledge that pass all the argument of the earth, And I know that the hand of God is the promise of my own, And I know that the spirit of God is the brother of my own, And that all the men ever born are also my brothers, and the women my sisters and lovers, And that a kelson of the creation is love.

What is that you express in your eyes? It seems to me more than all the print I have read in my life.

We were together. I forget the rest.