Walt Whitman tells how when he was fed up with listening to the wranglers and debaters, who are always with us, he would go out into the friendly darkness and look up at the stars, which in his time were not hidden by the glare of neon signs advertising the latest ‘must have thing.’ The sight of those stars and the vastness of the starfield put the petty squabbles of egotistic wranglers into a different perspective.