I had a moment of clarity, saw the feeling in the heart of things, walked out to the garden crying.

We are all exposed to the flash bulb of death.

I saw you, Walt Whitman, childless, lonely old grubber,poking among the meats in the refrigerator and eyeing the grocery boys. I heard you asking questions of each: Who killed the pork chops? What price bananas? Are you my Angel?

It's time we did something to assert ourselves. After all, we do comprise 10% of the population.

Who’ll come lie down in the dark with me Belly to belly and knee to knee Who’ll look into my hooded eye Who’ll lie down under my darkened thigh?

Inside skull vast as outside skull

Ultimately Warhol's private moral reference was to the supreme kitsch of the Catholic church.