Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Quotes

The day is cold, and dark, and dreary; It rains, and the wind in never weary; The vine still clings to the mouldering wall, But at every gust the dead leaves fall, And the day is dark and dreary.

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Take this sorrow to thy heart and make it part of thee, and it shall nourish thee till thou art strong again.

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Build today, then strong and sure, With a firm and ample base; And ascending and secure. Shall tomorrow find its place.

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I am more afraid of deserving criticism than of receiving it.

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Thus at the flaming forge of life Our fortunes must be wrought; Thus on its sounding anvil shaped Each burning deed and thought!

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There rises the moon, broad and tranquil, through the branches of a walnut tree on a hill opposite. I apostrophize it in the words of Faust; "O gentle moon, that lookest for the last time upon my agonies!" --or something to that effect.

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The twilight is sad and cloudy, The wind blows wild and free, And like the wings of sea-birds Flash the white caps of the sea.

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Under a spreading chestnut-tree The village smithy stands; The smith, a mighty man is he, With large and sinewy hands; And the muscles of his brawny arms Are strong as iron bands.

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White swan of cities slumbering in thy nest . . . White phantom city, whose untrodden streets Are rivers, and whose pavements are the shifting Shadows of the palaces and strips of sky.

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No literature is complete until the language it was written in is dead.

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O weary hearts! O slumbering eyes! O drooping souls, whose destinies Are fraught with fear and pain, Ye shall be loved again.

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Tis always morning somewhere.

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Man is unjust, but God is just; and finally justice triumphs.

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Today is the blocks with which we build.

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By the shores of Gitchee Gumee, By the shining Big-Sea-Water, Stood the wigwam of Nokomis, Daughter of the Moon, Nokomis, Dark behind it rose the forest, Rose the black and gloomy pine-trees, Rose the firs with cones upon them; Bright before it beat the water, Beat the clear and sunny water, Beat the shining Big-Sea-Water.

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The low desire, the base design That makes another's virtues less.

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Whoever benefits his enemy with straightforward intention that man's enemies will soon fold their hands in devotion.

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Every man has a paradise around him till he sins, and the angel of an accusing conscience drives him from his Eden.

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The true poet is a friendly man. He takes to his arms even cold and inanimate things, and rejoices in his heart.

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Often times we call a man [or woman] cold when he [or she] is only sad.

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