Great Throughts Treasury

This site is dedicated to the memory of Dr. Alan William Smolowe who gave birth to the creation of this database.

Walt Whitman, fully Walter "Walt" Whitman

American Poet, Journalist and Essayist

"And there is no trade or employment but the young man following it may become a hero."

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

"And your very flesh shall be a great poem."

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

"Apart from the pulling and hauling stands what I am, stands amused, complacent, compassionating, idle, unitary, looks down, is erect, or bends an arm on an impalpable certain rest, looking with side-curved head curious what will come next, both in and out of the game and watching and wondering at it."

"Ar,’d year! Year of the struggle! No dainty rhymes or sentimental love verses for you, terrible year! Not you as some pale poetling, seated at a desk, lisping cadenzas piano; but as a strong man, erect, clothed in blue clothes, advancing, carrying a rifle on your shoulder, with well-gristled body and sunburnt face and hands—with a knife in the belt at your side, as I heard you shouting loud—your sonorous voice ringing across the continent; your masculine voice, O year, as rising amid the great cities."

"Are you the new person drawn toward me? To begin with, take warning - I am surely far different from what you suppose; do you suppose you will find in me your ideal? Do you think it so easy to have me become your lover? Do you think the friendship of me would be unalloy'd satisfaction? Do you think I am trusty and faithful? Do you see no further than this façade—this smooth and tolerant manner of me? Do you suppose yourself advancing on real ground toward a real heroic man? Have you no thought, O dreamer, that it may be all maya, illusion?"

"Argue not concerning God,…re-examine all that you have been told at church or school or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your soul…"

"As I ebb'd with the ocean of life, as I wended the shores I know, as I walk'd where the ripples continually wash you Paumanok."

"As if it harm'd me, giving others the same chances and rights as myself as if it were not indispensable to my own rights that others possess the same."

"At the last, tenderly, from the walls of the powerful fortress'd house, From the clasp of the knitted locks, from the keep of the well-closed doors, Let me be wafted. Let me glide noiselessly forth; With the key of softness unlock the locks—with a whisper, set ope the doors O soul."

"At times it has been doubtful to me if Emerson really knows or feels what Poetry is at its highest, as in the Bible, for instance, or Homer or Shakespeare. I see he covertly or plainly likes best superb verbal polish, or something old or odd"

"Battles are lost in the same spirit in which they are won."

"Be composed--be at ease with me--I am Walt Whitman, liberal and lusty as Nature, Not till the sun excludes you do I exclude you, Not till the waters refuse to glisten for you and the leaves to rustle for you, do my words refuse to glisten and rustle for you."

"Be curious, not judgmental."

"Be not ashamed women... You are the gates of the body, and you are the gates of the soul."

"Be not dishearten'd -- Affection shall solve the problems of Freedom yet; those who love each other shall become invincible."

"Bearing the bandages, water and sponge, straight and swift to my wounded I go, where they lie on the ground after the battle brought in, where their priceless blood reddens the grass the ground, or to the rows of the hospital tent, or under the roof'd hospital, to the long rows of cots up and down each side I return, to each and all one after another I draw near, not one do I miss, an attendant follows holding a tray, he carries a refuse pail, soon to be fill'd with clotted rags and blood, emptied, and fill'd again."

"Beat! beat! drums!—blow! bugles! blow! Through the windows—through doors—burst like a ruthless force, into the solemn church, and scatter the congregation; into the school where the scholar is studying; leave not the bridegroom quiet—no happiness must he have now with his bride; nor the peaceful farmer any peace, plough his field or gathering his grain; so fierce you whirr and pound, you drums—so shrill you bugles blow."

"Beautiful that war and all its deeds of carnage must in time be utterly lost, that the hands of the sisters Death and Night incessantly softly wash again, and ever again, this soil'd world; for my enemy is dead, a man as divine as myself is dead, I look where he lies white-faced and still in the coffin -- I draw near, bend down and touch lightly with my lips the white face in the coffin."

"Beginning my studies, the first step pleas'd me so much, the mere fact, consciousness—these forms—the power of motion, the least insect or animal—the senses—eyesight; the first step, I say, aw'd me and pleas'd me so much, I have never gone, and never wish'd to go, any farther, but stop and loiter all my life, to sing it in extatic songs."

"Behind this face that appears so impassive Hell's tides continually run"

"Books are to be called for and supplied on the assumption that the process of reading is not a half-sleep, but in the highest sense an exercise, a gymnastic struggle; that the reader is to do something for himself."

"But the people are ungrammatical, untidy, and their sins gaunt and ill-bred."

"By day thy warning ringing bell to sound its notes, by night thy silent signal lamps to swing."

"But where is what I started for so long ago? And why is it yet unfound?"

"By the bivouac's fitful flame, a procession winding around me, solemn and sweet and slow."

"Camerado! This is no book; who touches this touches a man."

"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?"

"Character and personal force are the only investments that are worth anything."

"City of the world (for all races are here, all the lands of the earth make contributions here), city of the sea! City of wharves and stores - city of tall facades of marble and iron! Proud and passionate city - mettlesome, mad, extravagant city!"

"Clear and sweet is my soul, and clear and sweet is all that is not my soul. Lack one lacks both, and the unseen is proved by the seen, till that becomes unseen and receives proof in its turn."

"Come lovely and soothing death, undulate round the world, serenely arriving, arriving, in the day, in the night, to all, to each, sooner or later, delicate death."

"Come up from the fields father, here's a letter from our Pete, and come to the front door mother, here's a letter from thy dear son."

"Comrade, 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?"

"Copulation is no more foul to me than death is."

"Damn all expurgated books, the dirtiest book of all is the expurgated book."

"Dash me with amorous wet, I can repay you."

"Dazzling and tremendous how quick the sun-rise would kill me, if I could not now and always send sun-rise out of me."

"Demon or bird! (said the boy’s soul). Is it indeed toward your mate you sing? or is it mostly to me? For I, that was a child, my tongue’s use sleeping, now I have heard you, now in a moment I know what I am for—I awake, and already a thousand singers—a thousand songs, clearer, louder and more sorrowful than yours, a thousand warbling echoes have started to life within me, never to die.O you singer, solitary, singing by yourself—projecting me; O solitary me, listening—nevermore shall I cease perpetuating you; never more shall I escape, never more the reverberations, never more the cries of unsatisfied love be absent from me, never again leave me to be the peaceful child I was before what there, in the night, by the sea, under the yellow and sagging moon, the messenger there arous’d—the fire, the sweet hell within, the unknown want, the destiny of me."

"Did you, too, O friend, suppose democracy was only for elections, for politics, and for a party name? I say democracy is only of use there that it may pass on and come to its flower and fruit in manners, in the highest forms of interaction between [people], and their beliefs -- in religion, literature, colleges and schools -- democracy in all public and private life...."

"Do anything, but let it produce joy."

"Do you guess I have some intricate purpose? Well I have, for the Fourth-month showers have, and the mica on the side of a rock has."

"Do you know that Old Age may come after you with equal grace, force, fascination?"

"Each singing what belongs to him or her and to none else, The day what belongs to the day—at night the party of young fellows, robust, friendly, Singing with open mouths their strong melodious songs."

"Ebb, ocean of life, (the flow will return,) cease not your moaning you fierce old mother, endlessly cry for your castaways, but fear not, deny not me, rustle not up so hoarse and angry against my feet as I touch you or gather from you. I mean tenderly by you and all, I gather for myself and for this phantom looking down where we lead, and following me and mine."

"Either define the moment or the moment will define you."

"Every cubic inch of space is a miracle."

"Every moment of light and dark is a miracle."

"Exact science and its practical movements are no checks on the greatest poet, but always his encouragement and support ... The sailor and traveler, the anatomist, chemist, astronomer, geologist, phrenologist, spiritualist, mathematician, historian and lexicographer are not poets, but they are the lawgivers of poets and their construction underlies the structure of every perfect poem."