I remind myself every morning: Nothing I say this day will teach

Larry King once said, “I remind myself every morning: Nothing I say this day will teach me anything. So if I'm going to learn, I must do it by listening.” These words reveal the heart of a man who spent his life speaking before millions, yet knew that true wisdom is not found in the sound of one’s own voice, but in the voices of others. His saying strikes like a bell of humility: no matter how much one knows, one can only gain new knowledge through the art of listening.

The ancients themselves revered this truth. Socrates, the philosopher of Athens, was famed for his questions, not for his answers. He confessed to knowing nothing, and in this confession, he opened the door to endless learning. By listening deeply, by drawing out the thoughts of others, he discovered wisdom far greater than the words he might have spoken alone. Larry King, in his own time, followed this same tradition: though the world knew him as a talker, his power came from his ability to listen and draw forth the stories of others.

The meaning of his words lies in their paradox. Each morning he reminded himself that his own speech, however eloquent, would teach him nothing new. The voice that always speaks is like a well that never receives fresh water—it grows stagnant. But the one who listens becomes a river, ever renewed, carrying new truths, new perspectives, new depths. King’s humility was his genius: he sat before presidents, artists, scientists, and ordinary people alike, knowing that each had something to teach, if only he listened.

History bears witness to the strength of listening. Consider Abraham Lincoln, who, before making decisions in the White House, often filled his evenings not with speeches but with hours of listening to citizens, soldiers, and advisors. By gathering many voices, he gained perspective that no single tongue could have given him. His greatness was not only in his words, but in the ears that received and weighed the counsel of others. His presidency stands as a living testimony to the power of learning by listening.

The emotional power of King’s saying lies in its call to humility. The human heart loves the sound of its own voice. We crave to be heard, to declare, to persuade. Yet in doing so, we often close the door to wisdom. King’s reminder is a daily act of discipline, stripping away pride and making room for growth. It is not a denial of one’s own worth, but a recognition that others carry treasures we cannot discover on our own. To listen is to honor them, and in honoring them, to enrich ourselves.

For the seeker of wisdom, the lesson is luminous: do not measure your day by how much you have spoken, but by how much you have understood. Ask questions more than you give answers. Resist the urge to dominate every conversation. Let silence be your ally, and let the voices of others fill that silence with truths you have not yet seen. This is the practice of the wise: to learn not by boasting, but by hearing.

What then must we do? Begin each morning, as King did, with a vow: “Today I will listen.” Whether to a friend, a stranger, a teacher, or a child, open your heart to their words. Take notes, reflect, ask questions, and carry away the jewels hidden in their speech. Resist the pride that says, “I already know.” For it is only when we quiet our own tongue that the world can speak to us.

Thus, Larry King’s words ring like timeless counsel: speech may reveal what you already know, but listening reveals what you do not. Live as one who seeks wisdom, not as one who clings to pride. For the greatest teachers are often those who speak least, but hear most. And the one who listens well walks not in ignorance, but in the endless light of learning.