Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Quotes

Tomorrow is the mysterious, unknown guest.

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Look at this vigorous plant that lifts its head from the meadow, See how its leaves are turned to the north, as true as the magnet; This is the compass-flower, that the finger of God has planted Here in the houseless wild, to direct the traveller's journey. Over the sea-like, pathless, limitless waste of the desert, Such in the soul of man is faith.

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Many people do not allow their principles to take root, but pull them up every now and then, as children do the flowers they have planted, to see if they are growing.

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To-morrow! the mysterious, unknown guest, Who cries to me: "Remember Barmecide, And tremble to be happy with the rest." And I make answer: "I am satisfied; I dare not ask; I know not what is best; God hath already said what shall betide.

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History casts its shadow far into the land of song.

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Sculpture is more than painting. It is greater To raise the dead to life than to create Phantoms that seem to live.

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Then followed that beautiful season... Summer.... Filled was the air with a dreamy and magical light; and the landscape Lay as if new created in all the freshness of childhood.

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They are dead; but they live in each Patriot's breast, And their names are engraven on honor's bright crest.

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Tags : Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Quotes , Uplifting Quotes , Memorial Day Quotes

The trees are white with dust, that o'er their sleep Wave their broad curtains in the south-wind's breath, While underneath such leafy tents they keep The long, mysterious Exodus of Death.

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Tags : Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Quotes , Sleep Quotes , Dust Quotes

Kind hearts are the gardens, Kind thoughts are the roots, Kind words are the flowers, Kind deeds are the fruits, Take care of your garden And keep out the weeds, Fill it with sunshine, Kind words, and Kind deeds.

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The air is full of farewells to the dying. And mournings for the dead.

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More and more do I feel, as I advance in life, how little we really know of each other. Friendship seems to me like the touch of musical-glasses--it is only contact; but the glasses themselves, and their contents, remain quite distinct and unmingled.

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Love gives itself; it is not bought.

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Like a French poem is life; being only perfect in structure when with the masculine rhymes mingled the feminine are.

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The heights by great men reached and kept were not attained by sudden flight, but they, while their companions slept, were toiling upward in the night.

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Kind messages, that pass from land to land; Kind letters, that betray the heart's deep history, In which we feel the pressure of a hand,-- One touch of fire,--and all the rest is mystery!

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O, though oft oppressed and lonely, All my fears are laid aside, If I but remember only Such as these have lived and died!

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I love the season well When forest glades are teeming with bright forms, Nor dark and many-folded clouds foretell The coming of storms.

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It is Lucifer, The son of mystery; And since God suffers him to be, He too, is God's minister, And labors for some good By us not understood.

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Tags : Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Quotes , Son Quotes , Suffering Quotes

Love is the root of creation; God's essence; worlds without number Lie in his bosom like children; he made them for this purpose only. Only to love and to be loved again.

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