All music is is what awakes from you when you are reminded by the instruments.
Walt WhitmanRead
What do you think has become of the young and old men? And what do you think has become of the women and children? They are alive and well somewhere, The smallest sprout shows there is really no death, And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait at the end to arrest it, And ceas'd the moment life appear'd. All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses, And to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier.
Interpretation
This quote reflects on the continuity of life and the idea that death is not an end, but a transition.
In this quote, Walt Whitman emphasizes the cyclical nature of life, suggesting that even in death there is an ongoing essence that transcends into life. He implies that death should not be feared but understood as a part of the larger experience of existence, revealing a deeper connection between all beings and the everlasting flow of life.
In practice
In a eulogy celebrating someone's life, you might include this quote to highlight the belief in the continuation of the soul.
All music is is what awakes from you when you are reminded by the instruments.
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.
From the perspective of mere representation, the external world always remains only a phenomenon.
Our identities really are a constant negotiation between the story we tell about ourselves and the narrative our societies like to recite.
This brings me back to the image of Kafka standing before a fish in the Berlin aquarium, a fish on which his gaze fell in a newly found peace after he decided not to eat animals. Kafka recognized that fish as a member of his invisible family- not as his equal, of course, but as another being that was his concern.
Do we really think that the United States will have the protection of innocent Afghans in mind if it rains terror down on the Afghan infrastructure? We are supposedly fighting them because they immorally killed innocent civilians. That made them evil. If we do the same, are we any less immoral?
Countless religious innovators over the years have played the game of establishing an identity for themselves by accentuating their otherness.
There are cases where the slave does not know his servitude and where it is necessary to bring the seed of his liberation to him from the outside: his submission is not enough to justify the tyranny which is imposed upon him.
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