- 'Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers, and things are not what they seem.
Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art; to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.'
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow » - A torn jacket is soon mended but hard words bruise the heart of a child.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- A torn jacket is soon mended; but hard words bruise the heart of a child.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- Age is opportunity no less than youth itself.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- 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.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- All things must change to something new, to something strange.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- Doubtless criticism was originally benignant, pointing out the beauties of a work rather that its defects. The passions of men have made it malignant, as a bad heart of Procrustes turned the bed, the symbol of repose, into an instrument of torture.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- Give what you have. To some it may be better than you dare think.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- Give what you have. To someone, it may be better than you dare to think.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- Great is the art of beginning, but greater is the art of ending.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- He that respects himself is safe from others. He wears a coat of mail that none can pierce.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- If I am not worth the wooing, I am surely not worth the winning.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- If we could read the secret history of our enemies, we should find in each man's life sorrow and suffering enough to disarm any hostility.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- It is an illusion that youth is happy, an illusion of those who have lost it.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- It is curious to note the old sea-margins of human thought. Each subsiding century reveals some new mystery; we build where monsters used to hide themselves.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- It takes less time to do things right than to explain why you did it wrong.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- Know how sublime a thing is to suffer and be strong.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- Learn to labour and to wait.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- Let us, then be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labour and to wait.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow » - Let us, then, be up and doing, with a heart for any fate Still achieving, still pursuing, learn to labor and to wait.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- Life is real Life is earnest And the grave is not its goal Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- Look not mournfully into the Past. It comes not back again. Wisely improve the Present. In is thine. Go forth to meet the shadowy Future, without fear, and a manly heart.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- Look not mournfully into the past. It comes not back again. Wisely improve the present. It is thine. Go forth to meet the shadowy future, without fear.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- Men of genius are often dull and inert in society, as a blazing meteor when it descends to earth, is only a stone.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- Most people would succeed in small things if they were not troubled with great ambitions.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- Silently one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven, Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- Sometimes we may learn more from a man's errors, than from his virtues.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- Talk not of wasted affection affection never was wasted.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- Talk not of wasted affection, affection never was wasted, If it enrich not the heart of another, its waters returning Back to their springs, like the rain shall fill them full of refreshment That which the fountain sends forth returns again to the fountain.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- Talk not of wasted affection, affection never was wasted,
If it enrich not the heart of another, its waters returning
Back to their springs, like the rain shall fill them full of refreshment;
That which the fountain sends forth returns again to the fountain.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow » - Talk not of wasted affection; affection never was wasted.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- Tell me not, in mournful numbers,Life is but an empty dreamFor the soul is dead that slumbers,and things are not what they seem.Life is real Life is earnestAnd the grave is not its goalDust thou art to dust returnest,Was not spoken of the soul.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- The adoration of his heart had been to her only as the perfume of a wild flower, which she had carelessly crushed with her foot in passing.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- 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.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- The holiest of holidays are those Kept by ourselves in silence and apart The secret anniversaries of the heart.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- The love of learning, the sequestered nooks, And all the sweet serenity of books.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- The lowest ebb is the turn of the tide.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- The morning pouring everywhere, its golden glory on the air.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- The shades of night were falling fast,As though an Alpine village passedA youth, who bore, 'mid snow and ice,A banner with the strange device,ExcelsiorHis brow was sad his eye beneath,Flashed like a falchion from its sheath,And like a silver clarion rungThe accents of that unknown tongue,Excelsior
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- The talent of success is nothing more than doing what you can do well, and doing well whatever you do without thought of fame. If it comes at all it will come because it is deserved, not because it is sought after.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- There are moments in life, when the heart is so full of emotion That if by chance it be shaken, or into its depths like a pebble Drops some careless word, it overflows, and its secret, Spilt on the ground like water, can never be gathered together.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- 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.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- To say the least, a town life makes one more tolerant and liberal in one's judgement of others.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- To which the fountain sends forth returns again to the fountain.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- Trust no future, however pleasant Let the dead past bury its dead Act, - act in the living Present Heart within and God overhead.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- We judge ourselves by what we are capable of doing, while others judge us by what we have already done.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- We judge ourselves by what we feel capable of doing, while others judge us by what we have already done.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- We see but dimly through the mists and vapors Amid these earthly damps What seem to us but sad, funeral tapers May be heaven's distant lamps.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- Well has it been said that there is no grief like the grief which does not speak.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
- You know I say just what I think, and nothing more and less. I cannot say one thing and mean another.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
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