How they contort rapid as lightning, with spasms and spouts of blood!
Why should I venerate and be ceremonious?
Askers embody themselves in me and I am embodied in them, I project my hat, sit shame-faced, and beg.
It alone is without flaw, it alone rounds and completes all, That mystic baffling wonder alone completes all.O welcome, ineffable grace of dying days!You are slot maskinen jackpot xiii 2 also asking me questions and I hear you, I answer that I cannot answer, you must find out for yourself.Do you guess I have some intricate purpose?24 Walt Whitman, a kosmos, of Manhattan the son, Turbulent, fleshy, sensual, eating, drinking and breeding, No sentimentalist, no stander above men and women or apart from them, No more modest than immodest.The little light fades the immense and diaphanous shadows, The air tastes good to my palate.Where are you off to, lady?Not a mutineer walks handcuff'd to jail but I am handcuff'd to him and walk by his side, (I am less the jolly one there, and more the silent one with sweat on my twitching lips.) Not a youngster is taken for larceny but.I find I incorporate gneiss, coal, long-threaded moss, fruits, grains, esculent roots, And am stucco'd with quadrupeds and birds all over, And have distanced what is behind me for good reasons, But call any thing back again when I desire.Your facts are useful, and yet they are not my dwelling, I but enter by them to an area of my dwelling.(The moth and the fish-eggs are in their place, The bright suns I see and the dark suns I cannot see are in their place, The palpable is in its place and the impalpable is in its place.) 17 These are really the thoughts.
The transit to and from the magazine is now stopt by the sentinels, They see so many strange faces they do not know whom to trust.2, houses and rooms are full of perfumes, the shelves are crowded with perfumes, I breathe the fragrance myself and know it and like it, The distillation would intoxicate me also, but I shall not let.Embody all presences outlaw'd or suffering, See myself in prison shaped like another man, And feel the dull unintermitted pain.5 I believe in you my soul, the other I am must not abase itself to you, And you must not be abased to the other.Do you take it I would astonish?It cannot fall the young man who died and was buried, Nor the young woman who died and was put by his side, Nor the little child that peep'd in at the door, and then drew back and was never seen again, Nor the old.Look in my face while I snuff the sidle of evening, (Talk honestly, no one else hears you, and I stay only a minute longer.) Do I contradict myself?Before I was born out of my mother generations guided me, My embryo has never been torpid, nothing could overlay.