Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Quotes

The twilight that surrounds the border-land of old romance.

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Quotes about Life Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! For the soul is dead that slumbers, and things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art; to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.

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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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Perhaps the greatest lesson which the lives of literary men teach us is told in a single word* Wait!

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In December ring Every day the chimes; Loud the gleemen sing In the streets their merry rhymes. Let us by the fire Ever higher Sing them till the night expire!

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Then read from the treasured volume the poem of thy choice, and lend to the rhyme of the poet the beauty of thy voice.

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

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Resolve and thou art free.

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The nimble lie Is like the second-hand upon a clock; We see it fly; while the hour-hand of truth Seems to stand still, and yet it moves unseen, And wins, at last, for the clock will not strike Till it has reached the goal.

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Art is the child of nature in whom we trace the features of the mothers face.

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So Nature deals with us, and takes away Our playthings one by one, and by the hand Leads us to rest.

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To be left alone, and face to face with my own crime, had been just retribution.

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And the wind plays on those great sonorous harps, the shrouds and masts of ships.

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Weak minds make treaties with the passions they cannot overcome, and try to purchase happiness at the expense of principle; but the resolute will of a strong man scorns such means, and struggles nobly with his foe to achieve great deeds.

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We waste our best years in distilling the sweetest flowers of life into potions which, after all, do not immortalize, but only intoxicate.

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Between the dark and the daylight, When the night is beginning to lower, Comes a pause in the day's occupations, That is known as the Children's Hour.

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Life hath quicksands, Life hath snares!

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The picture that approaches sculpture nearest Is the best picture.

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Softly the evening came /with the sunset/.

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What seems to us but dim funeral tapers may be heaven's distant lamps.

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