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  • Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Quotes   685
  • Art is the child of Nature; yes, Her darling child, in whom we trace The features of the mother's face, Her aspect and her attitude, All her majestic loveliness Chastened and softened and subdued Into a more attractive grace, And with a human sense imbued. He is the greatest artist, then, Whether of pencil or of pen, Who follows Nature.
  • 5 years ago



    Tags : Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Quotes , Mother Quotes , Art Quotes
  • The motives and purposes of authors are not always so pure and high, as, in the enthusiasm of youth, we sometimes imagine. To many the trumpet of fame is nothing but a tin horn to call them home, like laborers from, the field, at dinner-time, and they think themselves lucky to get the dinner.
  • 5 years ago



    Tags : Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Quotes , Home Quotes , Thinking Quotes
  • To be seventy years old is like climbing the Alps. You reach a snow-crowned summit, and see behind you the deep valley stretching miles and miles away, and before you other summits higher and whiter, which you may have strength to climb, or may not. Then you sit down and meditate and wonder which it will be.
  • 5 years ago



    Tags : Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Quotes , Time Quotes , Climbing Quotes
  • The natural alone is permanent. Fantastic idols may be worshipped for a while; but at length they are overturned by the continual and silent progress of Truth, as the grim statues of Copan have been pushed from their pedestals by the growth of forest-trees, whose seeds were sown by the wind in the ruined walls.
  • 5 years ago



    Tags : Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Quotes , Nature Quotes , Wall Quotes