Walt Whitman

Nothing can happen more beautiful than death.

Seasons pursuing each other the indescribable crowd is gathered, it is the fourth of Seventh-month, (what salutes of cannon and small arms!)

I dote on myself, there is that lot of me and all so luscious. - Whitman, Walt

Youth, large, lusty, loving -- Youth, full of grace, force, fascination. Do you know that Old Age may come after you with equal grace, force, fascination?

If you done it, it ain't bragging.

Let that which stood in front go behind, let that which was behind advance to the front, let bigots, fools, unclean persons, offer new propositions, let the old propositions be postponed.

To die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier.

Behold I do not give lectures or a little charity, When I give I give myself. - Whitman, Walt

The Past -- the dark unfathomed retrospect! The teeming gulf --the sleepers and the shadows! The past! the infinite greatness of the past! For what is the present after all but a growth out of the past?

And there is no trade or employment but the young man following it may become a hero.