If you want me again, look for me under your boot-soles - Walt Whitman

The earth recedes from me into the night, I saw that it was beautiful . . . . and I see that what is not the earth is beautiful.

Their Presidents shall not be their common referee so much as their poets shall.

Walt Whitman, an American, one of the roughs, a kosmos, / Disorderly fleshy and sensual....eating drinking and breeding, / No sentimentalist....no stander above men and women or apart / from them....no more modest than immodest.