Quotes About Connection

Blind loving wrestling touch, sheath'd hooded sharp-tooth'd touch! Did it make you ache so, leaving me?

Eravamo insieme. Tutto il resto del mondo l'ho scordato.

He sees eternity in men and women, he does not see men and women as dreams or dots.

This is no book; Who touches this, touches a man; (Is it night? Are we here alone?) It is I you hold, and who holds you; I spring from the pages into your arms...

I do not call one greater and one smaller, that which fills it period and place is equal to any.

In all people I see myself, none more and not one a barley-corn less, And the good or bad I say of myself I say of them.

Why are there men and women that while they are nigh me the sunlight expands my blood? Why when they leave me do my pennants of joy sink flat and lank?

The proof of a poet is that his country absorbs him as affectionately as he has absorbed it.

Among the men and women, the multitude, I perceive one picking me out by secret and divine signs, Acknowledging none else—not parent, wife, husband, brother, child, any nearer than I am; Some are baffled—But that one is not—that one knows me. Ah, lover and perfect equal! I meant that you should discover me so, by my faint indirections; And I, when I meet you, mean to discover you by the like in you.

Speech is the twin of my vision . . . . it is unequal to measure itself.

Loafe with me on the grass.... loose the stop from your throat, Not words, not music or rhyme I want.... not custom or lecture, not even the best, Only the lull I like, the hum of your valved voice. I mind how we lay in June, such a transparent summer morning; You settled your head athwart my hips and gently turned over upon me, And parted the shirt from my bosom-bone, and plunged your tongue to my barestript heart, And reached till you felt my beard, and reached till you held my feet.

Allons! the road is before us! Camerado, I give you my hand! I give you my love more precious than money, I give you myself before preaching or law; Will you give me yourself? will you come travel with me? Shall we stick by each other as long as we live?

The spirit receives from the body just as much as it gives to the body, if not more.

In all people I see myself, none more and not one barley-corn less, And the good or bad I say of myself I say of them.

To touch my person to some one else's is about as much as I can stand

I am he that walks with the tender and growing night, I call to the earth and sea half-held by the night.

whoever walks a furlong without sympathy walks to his own funeral drest in his shroud

I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey-work of the stars...

Love, that is day and night – love, that is sun and moon and stars, Love, that is crimson, sumptuous, sick with perfume, no other words but words of love, no other thought but love.

gently turned over upon me, And parted the shirt from my bosom-bone, and plunged your tongue to my barestript heart

I pursue you where none else has pursued you; Silence, the desk, the flippant expression, the night, the accustomed routine; if these conceal you from others, or from yourself, they do not conceal you from me. —Walt Whitman, from "To You," Leaves of Grass (Simon Schuster, August 1st 2006) Originally published July 4th 1855.

the old name absorbs into me—MANNAHATTA, the place encircled by many swift tides and sparkling waters.

Have you ever loved the body of a woman? / Have you ever loved the body of a man? / Do you not see that these are exactly the same to all in all nations and times all over the earth?

O You Whom I Often and Silently Come O you whom I often and silently come where you are that I may be with you, As I walk by your side or sit near, or remain in the same room with you, Little you know the subtle electric fire that for your sake is playing within me.