O Captain! My Captain!

The author realises this post may not make sense or have a certain point, however so, she beseeches you to read aloud and live the words. (She is going through a phase. She watched an old movie again and can't seem to get the lines out of her head. They swarm her weighing her thoughts. You know that feeling? Exactly.)
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"We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman,

'O me! O life! of the questions of these recurring;

of the endless trains of the faithless
of cities filled with the foolish; 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 may contribute a verse.'

That the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse.
What will your verse be?"

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I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately.
I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life.
To put to rout all that was not life,
and not when I had come to die,
discover that I had not lived.
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A sweaty-toothed man with a stare that pounds my brain.
His hands reach out and choke me.
And all the time he's mumbling.
Mumbling truth, like a blanket that always leave your feet cold.
You push it, it will never be enough,
You kick it, you beat it, it will never cover any of us.
From the moment we enter crying to the moment we leave dying,
it will just cover your face,
as you wail and cry and scream.
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Because we are food for worms lads. Because, believe it or not, each and every one of us in this room is one day going to stop breathing, turn cold, and die.
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Teach me to love?
Go teach thyself more wit.
I, chief professor, am of it.
The God of love, if such a thing there be,
may learn to love from me.
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To mount the scaffolds. To advance to the muzzle of guns with perfect nonchalance.

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I don't think I'll ever get over my fascination with language.