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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Quotes

An American educator and poet.
(1807 - 1882)

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'Try not the pass!' the old man said; / 'Dark lowers the tempest overhead.'

'Wouldst thou' - so the helmsman answered. - / 'Learn the secret of the sea? / Only those who brave its dangers / Comprehend its mystery!'

A boy's will is the wind's will, / And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.

A coquette is a young lady of more beauty than sense, more accomplishments than learning, more charms of person than graces of mind, more admirers than friends, more fools than wise men for attendants.

A feeling of sadness and longing that is not akin to pain, and resembles sorrow only as the mist resembles the rain.

A Lady with a Lamp shall stand / In the great history of the land. / A noble type of good, / Heroic womanhood.

A life that is worth writing at all, is worth writing minutely and truthfully.

A single conversation across the table with a wise man is better than ten years mere study of books.

A thought often makes us hotter than a fire.

A torn jacket is soon mended; but hard words bruise the heart of a child.

A vague recollection fills my mind, an image dazzling, but undefined, like the memory of a gorgeous dream.-It crowds my brain confusedly, but will not stay.-It changes like the tremulous sunshine on the wave, till  imagination itself is dazzled, bewildered, over­powered.

A word that has been said may be unsaid-it is but air.-But when a deed is done, it cannot be undone, nor can our thoughts reach out to all the mischiefs that may follow.

Act-act in the living Present!
[The Present]

Age is opportunity no less than youth itself, though in another dress, and as the evening twilight fades away the sky is filled with stars, invisible by day.
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Ah! what would the world be to us If the children were no more? We should dread the desert behind us Worse than the dark before

Ah, how good it feels! The hand of an old friend.

Ah, how skillful grows the hand That obeyeth Love's command! It is the heart and not the brain That to the highest doth attain, And he who followeth Love's behest Far excelleth all the rest.

Ah, this beautiful world! Indeed, I know not what to think of it. Sometimes it is all gladness and sunshine, and heaven itself lies not far off; and then it suddenly changes and is dark and sorrowful, and the clouds shut out the day. In the lives of the saddest of us there are bright days when we feel as if we could take the great world in our arms. Then come the gloomy hours, when all without and within is dismal, cold, and dark. Believe me, every heart has its secret sorrows, which the world knows not; and oftentimes we call a man cold when he is only sad.

Ah, to build, to build! That is the noblest art of all the arts. Painting and sculpture are but images, are merely shadows cast by outward things on stone or canvas, having in themselves no separate existence. Architecture, existing in itself, and not in seeming a something it is not, surpasses them as substance shadow.

All are architects of fate, working in these walls of time.

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