Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Quotes

Think of your woods and orchards without birds! Of empty nests that cling to boughs and beams As in an idiot's brain remembered words Hang empty 'mid the cobwebs of his dreams!

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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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Where, twisted round the barren oak, The summer vine in beauty clung, And summer winds the stillness broke, The crystal icicle is hung.

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Well I know the secret places, And the nests in hedge and tree; At what doors are friendly faces, In what hearts are thoughts of me.

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Rule by patience, Laughing Water!

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.... 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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In this world a man must either be anvil or hammer.

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See yonder fire! It is the moon slow rising o'er the eastern hill. It glimmers on the forest tips, and through the dewy foliage drips In little rivulets of light, and makes the heart in love with night.

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A great sorrow, like a mariner's quadrant, brings the sun at noon down to the horizon, and we learn where we are on the sea of life.

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Tags : Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Quotes , Sea Quotes , Sorrow Quotes

It is the Harvest Moon! On gilded vanes and roofs of villages, on woodland crests and their aerial neighborhoods of nests deserted, on the curtained window-panes of rooms where children sleep, on country lanes and harvest-fields, its mystic splendor rests.

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I hear the wind among the trees Playing the celestial symphonies; I see the branches downward bent, Like keys of some great instrument.

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A handful of red sand from the hot clime Of Arab deserts brought, Within this glass becomes the spy of Time, The minister of Thought.

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All the means of action -- the shapeless masses -- the materials -- lie everywhere about us. What we need is the celestial fire to change the flint into the transparent crystal, bright and clear. That fire is genius.

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Round about what is, lies a whole mysterious world of might be, a psychological romance of possibilities and things that do not happen.

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Critics are sentinels in the grand army of letters, stationed at the corners of newspapers and reviews, to challenge every new author.

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Balder the Beautiful Is dead, is dead!

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Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad.

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Love gives itself; it is not bought.

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O ye dead Poets, who are living still Immortal in your verse, though life be fled, And ye, O living Poets, who are dead Though ye are living, if neglect can kill, Tell me if in the darkest hours of ill, With drops of anguish falling fast and red From the sharp crown of thorns upon your head, Ye were not glad your errand to fulfill?

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Tags : Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Quotes , Fall Quotes , Crowns Quotes

I do not love thee less for what is done, And cannot be undone. Thy very weakness Hath brought thee nearer to me, and henceforth My love will have a sense of pity in it, Making it less a worship than before.

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Tags : Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Quotes , Life Quotes , Weakness Quotes