I do not ask the wounded person how he feels, I myself become the wounded person. - Walt Whitman

None has begun to think how divine he himself is and how certain the future is.

O YOU whom I often and silently come where you are, that I may be with you;
As I walk by your side, or sit near, or remain in the same room with you,
Little you know the subtle electric fire that for your sake is playing within me.

Beyond thy lectures learn’d professor,
Beyond thy telescope or spectroscope observer keen, beyond all mathematics
...
The entities of entities, eidólons.

Unfix’d yet fix’d,
Ever shall be, ever have been and are, Sweeping the present to the infinite future,
Eidólons, eidólons, eidólons.