"Keep your face always toward the sunshine - and shadows will fall behind you."
"O Earth, that hast no voice, confide to me a voice! O harvest of my lands! O boundless summer growths! O lavish, brown, parturient earth! O infinite, teeming womb! A verse to seek, to see, to narrate thee."
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Source: Walt Whitman (1871). “Leaves of Grass: Passage to India”, p.87
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