It is foolish to pretend that one is fully recovered from a disappointed passion. Such wounds always leave a scar.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOWThy fate is the common fate of all; Into each life some rain must fall.
More Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Quotes
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Love keeps the cold out better than a cloak.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW -
By dropping golden beads near a snake, a crow once managed To have a passer-by kill the snake for the beads.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW -
Men of genius are often dull and inert in society; as the blazing meteor, when it descends to earth, is only a stone.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW -
It is a beautiful trait in the lover’s character, that they think no evil of the object loved.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW -
Sometimes we may learn more from a man’s errors, than from his virtues.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW -
Intelligence and courtesy not always are combined; Often in a wooden house a golden room we find.
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 -
Man is always more than he can know of himself; consequently, his accomplishments, time and again, will come as a surprise to him.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW -
There is nothing holier in this life of ours than the first consciousness of love, the first fluttering of its silken wings.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW -
In character, in manner, in style, in all things, the supreme excellence is simplicity.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW -
Look not mournfully into the past, it comes not back again. Wisely improve the present, it is thine.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW -
Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW -
The mind of the scholar, if he would leave it large and liberal, should come in contact with other minds.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW -
Each morning sees some task begun, each evening sees it close; Something attempted, something done, has earned a night’s repose.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW -
Therefore trust to thy heart, and to what the world calls illusions.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW