The Helicon of too many poets is not a hill crowned with sunshine and visited by the Muses and the Graces, but an old, mouldering house, full of gloom and haunted by ghosts.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOWAmbition is so powerful a passion in the human breast, that however high we reach we are never satisfied.
More Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Quotes
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All things must change to something new, to something strange.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW -
The sky is filled with stars, invisible by day.
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 -
It is difficult to know at what moment love begins; it is less difficult to know that it has begun.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW -
Morality without religion is only a kind of dead reckoning – an endeavor to find our place on a cloudy sea by measuring the distance we have run, but without any observation of the heavenly bodies.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW -
It is a beautiful trait in the lover’s character, that they think no evil of the object loved.
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As to the pure mind all things are pure, so to the poetic mind all things are poetical.
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 -
Give what you have to somebody, it may be better than you think.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW -
Sit in reverie and watch the changing color of the waves that break upon the idle seashore of the mind.
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.
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Critics are sentinels in the grand army of letters, stationed at the corners of newspapers and reviews, to challenge every new author.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW -
The counterfeit and counterpart of Nature is reproduced in art.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW -
Like a French poem is life; being only perfect in structure when with the masculine rhymes mingled the feminine are.
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Music is the universal language of mankind.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW