Great Throughts Treasury

"The efflux of the soul is happiness."

"The poet is the equable man, not in him but off from him things are grotesque, eccentric, fail of their full returns, nothing out of its place is good, nothing in its place is bad, he bestows on every object or quality its fit proportion, neither more nor less, he is the arbiter of the diverse, he is the key... As he sees the farthest he has the most faith, his thoughts are the hymns of the praise of things, in the dispute on God and eternity he is silent, he sees eternity less like a play with a prologue and denouement, he sees eternity in men and women, he does not see men and women as dreams or dots."

"The question, O me! so sad, recurring - What good amid these, O me, O life?” Answer. That you are here - that life exists and identity, that the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse."

"There is no imperfection in the present, and can be none in the future."

"To the real artist in humanity, what are called bad manners are often the most picturesque and significant of all."

"What are those of the known but to ascend and enter the Unknown? And what are those of life but for Death?"

"What do you suppose will satisfy the soul, except to walk free and own no superior?"

"What indeed is finally beautiful except death and love?"

"Whatever satisfies the soul is truth."

"Wisdom cannot be pass'd from one having it to another not having it, Wisdom is of the soul, is not susceptible of proof, is its own proof."

"The future is no more uncertain than the present."

"The whole theory of the universe is directed unerringly to one single individual - namely to You."

"A child said ‘What is the grass?’ fetching it to me with full hands; how could I answer the child? I do not know what it is any more than he. I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven. Or I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord, a scented gift and remembrancer designedly dropt, bearing the owner's name someway in the corners, that we may see and remark, and say Whose? Or I guess the grass is itself a child, the produced babe of the vegetation. Or I guess it is a uniform hieroglyphic, and it means, Sprouting alike in broad zones and narrow zones, growing among black folks as among white, Kanuck, Tuckahoe, Congressman, Cuff, I give them the same, I receive them the same. And now it seems to me the beautiful uncut hair of graves. Tenderly will I use you curling grass, it may be you transpire from the breasts of young men, it may be if I had known them I would have loved them, it may be you are from old people, or from offspring taken soon out of their mothers' laps, and here you are the mothers' laps. This grass is very dark to be from the white heads of old mothers, darker than the colorless beards of old men, dark to come from under the faint red roofs of mouths. O I perceive after all so many uttering tongues, and I perceive they do not come from the roofs of mouths for nothing... What do you think has become of the young and old men? And what do you think has become of the women and children? They are alive and well somewhere, the smallest sprout shows there is really no death, and if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait at the end to arrest it, and ceas'd the moment life appear'd. All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses, and to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier."

"A few days more, and they landed—and then the battle. Twenty thousand were brought against us, a veteran force, furnish'd with good artillery."

"A glimpse through an interstice caught, of a crowd of workmen and drivers in a barroom around the stove late of a winter night, and I unremarked seated in a corner, of a youth who loves me and whom i love, silently approaching and seating himself near, that he may hold me by the hand, a long while amid the noises of coming and going, of drinking and oath and smutty jest, there we two, content, happy in being together, speaking little, perhaps not a word."

"A great city is that which has the greatest men and women, if it be a few ragged huts it is still the greatest city in the whole world."

"A line in long array, where they wind betwixt green islands; they take a serpentine course—their arms flash in the sun—hark to the musical clank."

"A man is a great thing upon the earth and through eternity; but every jot of the greatness of man is unfolded out of woman."

"A man, yet by these tears a little boy again, throwing myself on the sand, confronting the waves, I, chanter of pains and joys, uniter of here and hereafter, taking all hints to use them, but swiftly leaping beyond them, a reminiscence sing."

"A million people—manners free and superb— open voices—hospitality—the most courageous and friendly young men; the free city! no slaves! no owners of slaves! The beautiful city! the city of hurried and sparkling waters! The city of spires and masts! The city nested in bays! my city! The city of such women, I am mad to be with them! I will return after death to be with them! The city of such young men, I swear I cannot live happy, without I often go talk, walk, eat, drink, sleep, with them!"

"A morning glory at my window satisfies me more than the metaphysics of books."

"A motionless still balance in the air, then parting, talons loosing, upward again on slow-firm pinions slanting, their separate diverse flight, She hers, he his, pursuing."

"A noiseless patient spider, I mark'd where on a little promontory it stood isolated, mark'd how to explore the vacant vast surrounding, it launch'd forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself, ever unreeling them, ever tirelessly speeding them. And you O my soul where you stand, surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space, ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing, seeking the spheres to connect them, till the bridge you will need be form'd, till the ductile anchor hold, till the gossamer thread you fling catch somewhere, O my soul."

"A perfect writer would make words sing, dance, kiss, do the male and female act, bear children, weep, bleed, rage, stab, steal, fire cannon, steer ships, sack cities, charge with cavalry or infantry, or do anything that man or woman or the natural powers can do."

"A shock electric—the night sustain'd it; till with ominous hum, our hive at day-break, pour'd out its myriads."

"A simple separate person is not contained between his hat and his boots."

"A Song of the good green grass! A song no more of the city streets; A song of farms - a song of the soil of fields. A song with the smell of sun-dried hay, where the nimble pitchers handle the pitch-fork; a song tasting of new wheat, and of fresh-husk'd maize."

"A woman waits for me, she contains all, nothing lacking."

"A writer can do nothing for men more necessary, satisfying, than just simply to reveal to them the infinite possibility of their own souls."

"Adversity is the school of heroism, endurance the majesty of man, and hope the torch of high aspirations."

"Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road. Healthy, free, the world before me. The long brown path before me leading me wherever I choose. Henceforth, I ask not good fortune, I myself am good fortune. Henceforth, I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing."

"After you have exhausted what there is in business, politics, conviviality, and so on - have found that none of these finally satisfy, or permanently wear - what remains? Nature remains."

"Agonies are one of my changes of garments."

"Ah, little recks the laborer, how near his work is holding him to God, the loving Laborer through space and time."

"All beauty comes from beautiful blood and a beautiful brain. If the greatnesses are in conjunction in a man or woman it is enough...the fact will prevail through the universe...but the gaggery and gilt of a million years will not prevail. Who troubles himself about his ornaments or fluency is lost. This is what you shall so: Love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to every one that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence toward the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unknown or to any man or number of men, go freely with powerful uneducated persons and with the young and with the mothers of families, read these leaves in the open air every season of every year of your life, 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."

"All faults may be forgiven of him who has perfect candor."

"All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses, and to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier. This is what you shall do: Love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to everyone that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence toward the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unknown or to any man or number of men, go freely with powerful uneducated persons and with the young and with the mothers of families, read these leaves in the open air every season of every year of your life, 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."

"All music is what awakes from you when you are reminded by the instruments"

"All space, all time, the stars, the terrible perturbations of the suns, Swelling, collapsing, ending, serving their longer, shorter use, fill'd with eidolons only. The noiseless myriads, the infinite oceans where the rivers empty, the separate countless free identities, like eyesight, the true realities, eidolons. Not this the world, nor these the universes, they the universes, purport and end, ever the permanent life of life, eidolons, eidolons..."

"America's game: has the snap, go, fling, of the American atmosphere - belongs as much to our institutions, fits into them as significantly, as our constitutions, laws: is just as important in the sum total of our historic life"

"An old man bending I come among new faces, Years looking backward resuming in answer to children, Come tell us old man,"

"And as to me, I know nothing else but miracles."

"And I or you pocketless of a dime, may purchase the pick of the earth."

"And I will show of male and female that either is but the equal of the other."

"And I will show that nothing can happen more beautiful than death."

"And I will show that there is no imperfection in the present, and can be none in the future, and I will show that whatever happens to anybody it may be turn'd to beautiful results, and I will show that nothing can happen more beautiful than death, and I will thread a thread through my poems that time and events are compact, and that all the things of the universe are perfect miracles, each as profound as any."

"And now it [grass] seems to me the beautiful uncut hair of graves, tenderly will I use you curling grass, it may be you transpire from the breasts of young men, it may be if I had known them I would have loved them, it may be you from old people, or from offspring taken soon out of their mother's laps, and here you are the mothers' laps."

"And of the rights of them the others are down upon, of the deformed, trivial, flat, foolish, despised, fog in the air, beetles rolling balls of dung. Through me forbidden voices, voices of sexes and lusts, voices veiled and I remove the veil, voices indecent by me clarified and transfigured."

"And over all the sky—the sky! Far, far out of reach, studded, breaking out, the eternal stars."

"And the voice of my spirit tallied the song of the bird. 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."