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.
I celebrate myself, and sing myself, And what I assume you shall assume, For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
Re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your own soul; and your very flesh shall be a great poem, and have the richest fluency, not only in its words, but in the silent lines of its lips and face, and between the lashes of your eyes, and in every motion and joint of your body.
I am not contain'd between my hat and boots.
You want to know a sure way to lose money? Buy what's popular and don't know what you are investing in.
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?
All is procession; the universe is a procession with measured and beautiful motion.
To have great poets, there must be great audiences.
Have you learned the lessons only of those who admired you, and were tender with you, and stood aside for you? Have you not learned great lessons from those who braced themselves against you, and disputed passage with you?
I am satisfied ... I see, dance, laugh, sing.
Henceforth I ask not good fortune. I myself am good fortune.
I think I could turn and live with the animals, they are so placid and self contained; I stand and look at them long and long. They do not sweat and whine about their condition; They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins; They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God; Not one is dissatisfied-not one is demented with the mania of owning things; Not one kneels to another, nor his kind that lived thousands of years ago; Not one is responsible or industrious over the whole earth.
Battles are lost in the same spirit in which they are won.
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.
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?
I am larger, better than I thought; I did not know I held so much goodness.
When I give, I give myself.
Be not ashamed women, ... You are the gates of the body, and you are the gates of the soul.
I am not to speak to you, I am to think of you when I sit alone or wake at night alone, I am to wait, I do not doubt I am to meet you again, I am to see to it that I do not lose you.
I am too not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable, I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.
Have you not learned the most in your life from those with whom you disagreed - those who saw it differently from you?
I dream in my dreams all the dreams of the other dreamers. And I become the other dreamers.
Once fully enslaved, no nation, state, city of this earth ever afterward resumes its liberty.
Over all the sky - the sky! Far, far out of reach, studded with eternal stars.
My words itch at your ears till you understand them
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