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  1. Whatever it is, it avails not-distance avails not, and place
    avails not,
    I too lived, Brooklyn of ample hills was mine,
    I too walk’d the streets of Manhattan island, and bathed in
    the waters around it,
    I too felt the curious abrupt questionings stir within me,
    In the day among crowds of people sometimes they came upon me,
    In my walks home late at night, or as I lay in my bed, they came
    upon me,
    I too had been struck from the float forever held in solution,
    I too had receiv’d identity by my body,
    That I was I knew was of my body, and what I should be I
    knew I should be of my body.

    Excerpts from “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry” by Walt Whitman

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