Monday, May 30, 2016
A dozen from Walt Whitman, born May 31, 1819
Keep your face always toward the sunshine--and shadows will fall behind you.
I have learned that to be with those I like is enough.
Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, I am large, I contain multitudes.
Let your soul stand cool and composed before a million universes.
We were together. I forget the rest.
I no doubt deserved my enemies, but I don't believe I deserved my friends.
Happiness, not in another place, but this place... not for another hour, but for this hour.
I swear to you, there are divine things more beautiful than words can tell.
Some people are so much sunshine to the square inch.
I am as bad as the worst, but, thank God, I am as good as the best.
To me, every hour of the day and night is an unspeakably perfect miracle.
I exist as I am, that is enough.
Labels:
divine things,
friends,
happiness,
Leaves of Grass,
myself,
sunshine,
Walt Whitman
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