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,
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOWAs to the pure mind all things are pure, so to the poetic mind all things are poetical.
More Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Quotes
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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 -
The life of a man consists not in seeing visions and in dreaming dreams, but in active charity and in willing service.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW -
Look not mournfully into the past, it comes not back again. Wisely improve the present, it is thine.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW -
Thy fate is the common fate of all; Into each life some rain must fall.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW -
Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad.
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 -
Intelligence and courtesy not always are combined; Often in a wooden house a golden room we find.
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 -
I have an affection for a great city. I feel safe in the neighborhood of man, and enjoy the sweet security of the streets.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW -
It is foolish to pretend that one is fully recovered from a disappointed passion. Such wounds always leave a scar.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW -
Not in the clamor of the crowded street, not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng, but in ourselves, are triumph and defeat.
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 -
That which the fountain sends forth returns again to the fountain.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW -
The rapture of pursuing is the prize the vanquished gain.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW -
The sky is filled with stars, invisible by day.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW