Agonies are one of my changes of garments; I do not ask the wounded person how he feels . . . . I myself become the wounded person, My hurt turns liv… - Walt Whitman

Like a stone dropped into a pond, an article of that sort may spread out its concentric circles of consequences.

I exist as I am, that is enough,
If no other in the world be aware I sit content,
And if each and all be aware I sit content.
One world is aware, and by the far the largest to me, and that is myself,
And whether I come to my own today or in ten thousand or ten million years,
I can cheerfully take it now, or with equal cheerfulness, I can wait.

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