What a devil art thou, Poverty! How many desires - how many aspirations after goodness and truth - how many noble thoughts, loving wishes toward our fellows, beautiful imaginings thou hast crushed under thy heel, without remorse or pause!

Whatever satisfies the soul is truth.

re-examine all you have been told in school or church or in any book, and dismiss whatever insults your own soul; and your very flesh shall be a great poem, and have the richest fluency, not only in its words, but in the silent lines of its lips and face, and between the lashes of your eyes, and in every motion and joint of your body.

[From the preface to Leaves Grass]

The art of art, the glory of expression and the sunshine of the light of letters, is simplicity.

I want to live my life in such a way that when I get out of bed in the morning, the devil says, "aw shit, he's up!

Abashed the devil stood, / And felt how awful goodness is.