Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Quotes

The smoking flax before it burst to flame Was quenched by death, and broken the bruised reed.

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Perseverance is a great element of success.

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Two ways the rivers Leap down to different seas, and as they roll Grow deep and still, and their majestic presence Becomes a benefaction to the towns They visit, wandering silently among them, Like patriarchs old among their shining tents.

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I heard the bells on Christmas Day Their old, familiar carols play, And wild and sweet The words repeat Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

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In the mouths of many men soft words are like roses that soldiers put into the muzzles of their muskets on holidays.

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Love makes its record in deeper colors as we grow out of childhood into manhood.

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Softly the evening came /with the sunset/.

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

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O holy trust! O endless sense of rest! Like the beloved John To lay his head upon the Saviour's breast, And thus to journey on!

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O lovely eyes of azure, Clear as the waters of a brook that run Limpid and laughing in the summer sun!

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Everyone says that forgiveness is a lovely idea until he has something to forgive.

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Saint Augustine! well hast thou said, That of our vices we can frame A ladder, if we will but tread Beneath our feet each deed of shame.

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My soul is full of longing for the secret of the sea, and the heart of the great ocean sends a thrilling pulse through me.

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

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Whenever nature leaves a hole in a person's mind, she generally plasters it over with a thick coat of self-conceit.

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The picture that approaches sculpture nearest Is the best picture.

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They who go Feel not the pain of parting; it is they Who stay behind that suffer.

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Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing, only a signal shown, and a distant voice in the darkness; So on the ocean of life, we pass and speak one another, only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence.

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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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In the lives of the saddest of us, there are bright days like this, when we feel as if we could take the great world in our arms and kiss it. Then come the gloomy hours, when the fire will neither burn on our hearths nor in our hearts; and all without and within is dismal, cold, and dark. Believe me, every heart has its secret sorrows, which the world knows not, and oftentimes we call a man cold, when he is only sad.

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