"What do you think has become of the young and old men?- Leaves of Grass
And what do you think has become of the women and children?
They are alive and well somewhere,
The smallest sprout shows there is really no death,
And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait at the end to arrest it,
And ceas'd the moment life appear'd.
All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses,
And to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier."
words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup • they slither while they pass • they slip away across the universe • pools of sorrow, waves of joy are drifting through my open mind • possessing and caressing me
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Fellow (my roommate in Italy, for those of you who forgot) emailed me the following Walt Whitman quote:
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