There will never be any more perfection than there is now.
I am satisfied ... I see, dance, laugh, sing.
Do anything, but let it produce joy.
I think it is lost.....but nothing is ever lost nor can be lost .
The earth does not argue, Is not pathetic, has no arrangements, Does not scream, haste, persuade, threaten, promise, Makes no discriminations, has no conceivable failures, Closes nothing, refuses nothing, shuts none out.
The gift is to the giver, and comes back most to him - it cannot fail
Re-examine all you have been told in school or church or in any book, and dismiss whatever insults your own soul; and your very flesh shall be a great poem.
Those who love each other shall become invincible.
Let your soul stand cool and composed before a million universes.
All the things of the universe are perfect miracles, each as profound as any.
Nothing endures but personal qualities.
I swear to you, there are divine things more beautiful than words can tell
Not I, nor anyone else can travel that road for you. You must travel it by yourself. It is not far. It is within reach. Perhaps you have been on it since you were born, and did not know. Perhaps it is everywhere - on water and land.
Whatever satisfies the soul is truth.
I celebrate myself, and sing myself, And what I assume you shall assume, For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
The strongest and sweetest songs yet remain to be sung.
The President eats dirt and excrement for his daily meals, likes it and tries to force it on The States.
I hear and behold God in every object, yet understand God not in the least.
The road to wisdom is paved with excess. The mark of a true writer is their ability to mystify the familiar and familiarize the strange.
A writer can do nothing for men more necessary, satisfying, than just simply to reveal to them the infinite possibility of their own souls.
I have learned that to be with those I like is enough.
Resist much, obey little.
NOT I - NOT ANYONE else, can travel that road for you, You must travel it for yourself.
The secret of it all, is to write in the gush, the throb, the flood, of the moment – to put things down without deliberation – without worrying about their style – without waiting for a fit time or place. I always worked that way. I took the first scrap of paper, the first doorstep, the first desk, and wrote – wrote, wrote…By writing at the instant the very heartbeat of life is caught.
The future is no more uncertain than the present.
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