All music is is what awakes from you when you are reminded by the instruments.
Walt WhitmanRead
I lean and loaf at my ease... observing a spear of summer grass.
Interpretation
The quote reflects the beauty of nature and the value of taking time to appreciate the small things in life.
Walt Whitman's quote captures the essence of mindfulness and the peace that comes from being present in the moment. By simply observing a blade of grass, it suggests that one can find tranquility and joy in nature, highlighting the importance of slowing down and appreciating the world around us.
In practice
This quote is perfect for a nature-themed presentation to inspire others to appreciate their surroundings.
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.
We shall never understand the natural environment until we see it as a living organism. Land can be healthy or sick, fertile or barren, rich or poor, lovingly nurtured or bled white. Our present attitudes and laws governing the ownership and use of land represent an abuse of the concept of private property.... Today you can murder land for private profit. You can leave the corpse for all to see and nobody calls the cops.
Tumbling-hair picker of buttercups violets dandelions And the big bullying daisies through the field wonderful with eyes a little sorry Another comes also picking flowers
The grim frost is at hand, when apples will fall thick, almost thunderous, on the hardened earth.
The forest is my loyal friend_x000D_ _x000D_ A Delphic shrine to me.
Oh, a dainty plant is the ivy green, That creepeth o'er ruins old! Of right choice food are his meals, I ween, In his cell so lone and cold. Creeping where no life is seen, A rare old plant is the ivy green.
Ah! How often when I have been abroad on the mountains has my heart risen in grateful praise to God that it was not my destiny to waste and pine among those noisome congregations of the city.
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