All music is is what awakes from you when you are reminded by the instruments. — Walt Whitman Copy Share Image
In the swamp in secluded recesses, A shy and hidden bird is warbling a song. Solitary the thrush, The hermit withdrawn to… — Walt Whitman Copy Share Image
“All music is what awakes within us when we are reminded by the instruments; It is not the violins or the clarinets… — Walt Whitman Copy Share Image
All music is what awakes from you when you are reminded by the instruments. It is not the violins and the cornets-it… — Walt Whitman Copy Share Image
“Solitary the thrush, The hermit withdrawn to himself, avoiding the settlements, Sings by himself a song. Song of the bleeding throat!” — Walt Whitman Copy Share Image
O lands! O all so dear to me - what you are, I become part of that, whatever it is. — Walt Whitman Copy Share Image
“Each of us inevitable, Each of us limitless—each of us with his or her right upon the earth, Each of us allow'd the eternal… — Walt Whitman Copy Share Image
Comerado, 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… — Walt Whitman Copy Share Image
I have sometimes thought that the laws ought not to punish those actions of evil which are committed when the senses are steeped in… — Walt Whitman Copy Share Image
Oh while I live, to be the ruler of life, not a slave, to meet life as a powerful conqueror, and nothing exterior to… — Walt Whitman Copy Share Image
Wisdom is not finally tested in the schools, Wisdom cannot be pass'd from one having it to another not having it, Wisdom is of… — Walt Whitman Copy Share Image
Strange, (is it not?) that battles, martyrs, blood, even assassination should so condense - perhaps only really lastingly condense - a Nationality. — Walt Whitman Copy Share Image
I think I could always live with animals. The more you're around people, the more you love animals. — Walt Whitman Copy Share Image
“I am the poet of the Body and I am the poet of the Soul, The pleasures of heaven are with me and the… — Walt Whitman Copy Share Image
So here I sit in the early candle-light of old age-I and my book-casting backward glances over out travel'd road. — Walt Whitman Copy Share Image
