Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Quotes

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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A sermon is no sermon in which I cannot hear the heartbeat.

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See yonder little cloud, that, borne aloft So tenderly by the wind, floats fast away Over the snowy peaks!

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How beautiful is youth! how bright it gleams with its illusions, aspirations, dreams! Book of Beginnings, Story without End, Each maid a heroine, and each man a friend!

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Sorrow and silence are strong, and patient endurance is godlike.

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A thought often makes us hotter than a fire.

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

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Chill air and wintry winds! My ear has grown familiar with your song; I hear it in the opening year, I listen, and it cheers me long.

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Great is the art of beginning, but greater is the art of ending.

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Read from some humbler poet, Whose songs gushed from his heart, As showers from the clouds of summer, Or tears from the eyelids start.

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Resolve and thou art free.

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Not chance of birth or place has made us friends, Being oftentimes of different tongues and nations, But the endeavor for the selfsame ends, With the same hopes, and fears, and aspirations.

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Ah, the souls of those that die Are but sunbeams lifted higher.

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Hope has as many lives as a cat or a king.

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In youth all doors open outward; in old age all open inward.

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A young critic is like a boy with a gun; he fires at every living thing he sees. He thinks only of his own skill, not of the pain he is giving.

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"Do not fear! Heaven is as near," He said, "by water as by land!"

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And in despair I bowed my head; "There is no peace on earth," I said; "For hate is strong, And mocks the song Of peace on earth, good-will to men!" Then pealed the bells more loud and deep: "God is not dead, nor doth he sleep! The Wrong shall fail, the Right prevail, With peace on earth, good-will to men!

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If we love one another, nothing, in truth, can harm us, whatever mischances may happen.

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This song of mine Is a song of the vine To be sung by the glowing embers Of wayside inns, When the rain begins To darken the drear Novembers. and For the richest and best Is the wind of the West That grows by the Beautiful River; Whose sweet perfume Fills all the room With a bension on the giver. and When you ask one friend to dine, Give hime your best wine! When you ask two, The second best will do.

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Tags : Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Quotes , Beautiful Quotes , Song Quotes