Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Quotes

How far the gulf-stream of our youth may flow Into the arctic regions of our lives, Where little else than life itself survives.

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The picture that approaches sculpture nearest Is the best picture.

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Shepherds at the grange, Where the Babe was born, Sang with many a change, Christmas carols until morn.

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It has done me good to be somewhat parched by the heat and drenched by the rain of life.

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How can I tell the signals and the signs By which one heart another heart divines? How can I tell the many thousand ways By which it keeps the secret it betrays?

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Nothing useless is, or low; Each thing in its place is best; And what seems but idle show Strengthens and supports the rest.

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Nor deem the irrevocable Past As wholly wasted, wholly vain, If, rising on its wrecks, at last To something nobler we attain.

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What child has a heart to sing in this capricious clime of ours, when spring comes sailing in from the sea, with wet and heavy cloud-sails and the misty pennon of the east-wind nailed to the mast.

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The shadows of the mind are like those of the body. In the morning of life they all lie behind us; at noon we trample them under foot; and in the evening they stretch long, broad, and deepening before us.

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Tags : Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Quotes , Morning Quotes , Lying Quotes

.... Anon from the castle walls The crescent banner falls, And the crowd beholds instead, Like a portent in the sky, Iskander's banner fly, The Black Eagle with double head. And shouts ascend on high .....'' Long live Scanderbeg.

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The mind of the scholar, if he would leave it large and liberal, should come in contact with other minds.

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Into a world unknown,-the corner-stone of a nation!

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The life of a man consists not in seeing visions and in dreaming dreams, but in active charity and in willing service.

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What heart has not acknowledged the influence of this hour, the sweet and soothing hour of twilight, the hour of love, the hour of adoration, the hour of rest, when we think of those we love only to regret that we have not loved them more dearly, when we remember our enemies only to forgive them.

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This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks, Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight, Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic, Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms. Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep-voiced neighboring ocean Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest.

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The day is dark and cold and dreary; it rains, and the wind is never weary.

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A torn jacket is soon mended; but hard words bruise the heart of a child.

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O lovely eyes of azure, Clear as the waters of a brook that run Limpid and laughing in the summer sun!

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Then from the neighboring thicket the mocking-bird, wildest of singers, Swinging aloft on a willow spray that hung o'er the water, Shook from his little throat such floods of delirious music, That the whole air and the woods and the waves seemed silent to listen.

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A spirit of criticism, if indulged in, leads to a censoriousness of disposition that is destructive of all nobler feeling. The man who lives to find faults has a miserable mission.

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Tags : Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Quotes , Gratitude Quotes , Men Quotes