“As to me I know of nothing else but miracles,
Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan…
Or wade with naked feet along the beach just in the edge of the water,
Or the wonderfulness of the sundown, or of the stars shining so quiet and bright,
Or the exquisite delicate thin curve of the new moon in spring;
These with the rest, one and all, are miracles,
The whole referring, yet each distinct and in its place.”
