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“Do I contradict myself?
Very well then I contradict myself,
(I am large, I contain multitudes.)”
― Leaves of Grass
Very well then I contradict myself,
(I am large, I contain multitudes.)”
― Leaves of Grass
“God is a mean-spirited, pugnacious bully bent on revenge against His children for failing to live up to his impossible standards.”
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“I am as bad as the worst, but, thank God, I am as good as the best. ”
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“I think I could turn and live with animals, they are so placid and self-contain’d, I stand and look at them long and long.
They do not sweat and whine about their condition, They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins, They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God, Not one is dissatisfied, not one is demented with the mania of owning things, Not one kneels to another, nor to his kind that lived thousands of years ago, Not one is respectable or unhappy over the whole earth.”
― Leaves of Grass: The Death-Bed Edition
They do not sweat and whine about their condition, They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins, They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God, Not one is dissatisfied, not one is demented with the mania of owning things, Not one kneels to another, nor to his kind that lived thousands of years ago, Not one is respectable or unhappy over the whole earth.”
― Leaves of Grass: The Death-Bed Edition
“O Me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring;
Of the endless trains of the faithless—of cities fill’d with the foolish;
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light—of the objects mean—of the struggle ever renew’d;
Of the poor results of all—of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me;
Of the empty and useless years of the rest—with the rest me intertwined;
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 will contribute a verse.”
― Leaves of Grass
Of the endless trains of the faithless—of cities fill’d with the foolish;
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light—of the objects mean—of the struggle ever renew’d;
Of the poor results of all—of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me;
Of the empty and useless years of the rest—with the rest me intertwined;
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 will contribute a verse.”
― Leaves of Grass
Michael’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at Michael’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
465 books
|
137 friends
30 books
|
38 friends
524 books
|
34 friends
0 books
|
88 friends
1 book
|
11 friends
0 books
|
8 friends
2 books
|
24 friends
20 books
|
20 friends
More friends…
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