Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Quotes

The Wreck of the Hesperus But the father answered never a word, A frozen corpse was he.

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The grave itself is but a covered bridge, Leading from light to light, through a brief darkness!

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A noble type of good. Heroic womanhood.

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The market-place, the eager love of gain, Whose aim is vanity, and whose end is pain!

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Softly the evening came /with the sunset/.

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The hearts of some women tremble like leaves at every breath of love which reaches them, and they are still again. Others, like the ocean, are moved only by the breath of a storm, and not so easily lulled to rest.

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Trouble is the next best thing to enjoyment; there is no fate in the world so horrible as to have no share in either its joys or sorrows.

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There is no death! What seems so is transition; this life of mortal breath is but a suburb of the life elysian, whose portal we call Death.

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The emigrant's way o'er the western desert is mark'd by Camp-fires long consum'd and bones that bleach in the sunshine.

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I shot an arrow into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where; For, so swiftly it flew, the sight Could not follow it in its flight. I breathed a song into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where; For who has sight so keen and strong, That it can follow the flight of song? Long, long afterward, in an oak I found the arrow, still unbroke; And the song, from beginning to end, I found again in the heart of a friend.

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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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The happy should not insist too much upon their happiness in the presence of the unhappy.

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Southward with fleet of ice Sailed the corsair Death; Wild and fast blew the blast, And the east-wind was his breath.

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Look not mournfully into the past. It comes not back again.

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Simplicity in character, in manners, in style; in all things the supreme excellence is simplicity.

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Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, Is our destined end or way; But to act, that each tomorrow Find us farther than today.

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Autumn arrives like a warrior with the stain of blood upon his brazen mail. His crimson scarf is rent. His scarlet banner drips with gore. His step is like a flail upon the threshing floor.

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If you once understand an author's character, the comprehension of his writings becomes easy.

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Ah, to build, to build! That is the noblest art of all the arts. Painting and sculpture are but images, Are merely shadows cast by outward things On stone or canvas, having in themselves No separate existence. Architecture, Existing in itself, and not in seeming A something it is not, surpasses them As substance shadow.

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Something the heart must have to cherish, Must love and joy and sorrow learn; Something with passion clasp, or perish And in itself to ashes burn.

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Tags : Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Quotes , Passion Quotes , Learning Quotes