(maybe) all truths wait in all things

Stranger, if you passing meet me and desire to speak to me, why should you not speak to me? And why should I not speak to you?

The press of my foot to the earth springs me a hundred affections.

I am enamour’d of growing out-doors, Of men that live among cattle or taste of the ocean or woods, Of the builders and steerers of ships and the workers of axes and nails, and the drivers of horses, I can eat and sleep with them week in and week out.

The youth lies awake in the cedar-roof’d garret and harks to the musical rain.

The scent of these arm-pits aroma finer than prayer, This head more than churches, bibles, and all the creeds.

A morning-glory at my window satisfy me more than the metaphysics of books.

You villain touch! What are you doing? my breath is tight in its throat, Influence your floodgates, you are too much for me.

All truths wait in all things.

“We don’t run much to looks in my family, you know, all knuckles and cheekbones and beaky noses”, he said. “Maybe that’s why I tend to equate physical beauty with qualities with which it has absolutely nothing to do. I see a prettty mouth or a moody pair of eyes and imagine all sorts of deep afinities, private kinships. Never mind that half a dozen jerks are clustered round the same person, just because they’ve been duped by the same pair of eyes”.

Horrific as it was, the present dark, I was afraid to leave it for the other, permanent dark.

Do I contradict myself? Very well I contradict myself, (I am large, I contain multitudes.)

I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable.

I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.

To have the feeling to-day or any day I am sufficient as I am.

To escape utterly from other’s anchors and holds! To drive free! to love free! do dash reckless and dangerous! To court destruction with taunts, with invitations! To ascend, to leap to the heavens of the love indicated to me! To rise thither with my inebriate soul! To be lost if it must be so!

I am he that aches with amorous love; Does the earth gravitate? does not all matter, aching, attract all matter? So the body of me to all I meet or know.

Again we wander, we love, we separate again, Again she holds me by the hand, I must not go, I see her close beside me with silent lips sad and tremulous.