All music is is what awakes from you when you are reminded by the instruments.
Have you reckon’d a thousand acres much? have you reckon’d the earth much? Have you practis’d so long to learn to read? Have you felt so proud to get at the meaning of poems?
Interpretation
What this quote means
This quote questions the value placed on material wealth and intellectual pursuits, urging a deeper appreciation for nature and the essence of life.
Walt Whitman's quote reflects a profound contemplation about what truly holds value in life. It challenges societal norms that equate worth with material possessions and intellectual achievements, suggesting instead that true meaning lies in the connection with nature and the understanding of life's fundamental experiences. By questioning the significance of 'a thousand acres' and the pride taken in 'the meaning of poems,' Whitman encourages a shift in perspective towards appreciating the world around us and the simple yet profound insights it offers.
Themes
In practice
Example use cases
During a nature retreat, this quote can be shared to inspire appreciation for the surroundings.
More from Walt Whitman
All quotes →Did you, too, O friend, suppose democracy was only for elections, for politics, and for a party name? I say democracy is only of use there that it may pass on and come to its flower and fruit in manners, in the highest forms of interaction between people, and their beliefs - in religion, literature, colleges and schools- democracy in all public and private life.
In the confusion we stay with each other, happy to be together, speaking without uttering a single word.
A morning-glory at my window satisfies me more than the metaphysics of books.
Now, dearest comrade, lift me to your face,_x000D_ _x000D_ We must separate awhileHere! take from my lips this kiss._x000D_ _x000D_ Whoever you are, I give it especially to you;_x000D_ _x000D_ So long!And I hope we shall meet again.
And whoever walks a furlong without sympathy walks to his own funeral drest in his shroud.
Similar quotes
Sitting over words _x000D_ Very late I have heard a kind of whispered sighing _x000D_ Not far _x000D_ Like a night wind in pines or like the sea in the dark _x000D_ The echo of everything that has ever _x000D_ Been spoken _x000D_ Still spinning its one syllable _x000D_ Between the earth and silence.
And I will find some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,/ Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings.
Thou has left behind Powers that will work for thee,-air, earth, and skies! There 's not a breathing of the common wind That will forget thee; thou hast great allies; Thy friends are exultations, agonies, And love, and man's unconquerable mind.
So in the dark we hide the heart that bleeds, And wait, and tend our agonizing seeds.
My self-confidence can be measured out in teaspoons mixed into my poetry, and it still always tastes funny in my mouth.
April is the cruelest month, breeding lilacs out of the dead land, mixing memory and desire, stirring dull roots with spring rain.