"I dote on myself, there is that lot of me and all so luscious, Each moment and whatever happens thrills me with joy, I cannot tell how my ankles bend, nor whence the cause of my faintest wish, Nor the cause of the friendship I emit, nor the cause of the friendship I take again. (24)"
Leaves of Grass

January 1, 1970

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Added on April 10, 2026
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Original Language: English

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