The greatest firmness is the greatest mercy. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Compassion Copy Share Image
O beautiful, awful summer day, what hast thou given, what taken away? — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
“It takes less time to do something right than to explain why you did it wrong.” — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Time Copy Share Image
It is true, that it is not at all necessary to love many books, in order to love them much. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Book Copy Share Image
Do not fear! Heaven is as near," He said, "by water as by land! — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Thy fate is the common fate of all; Into each life some rain must fall. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Destiny Copy Share Image
At first laying down, as a fact fundamental, That nothing with God can be accidental. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
No literature is complete until the language it was written in is dead. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Books Copy Share Image
“Straight between them ran the pathway, Never grew the grass upon it” — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Friend Copy Share Image
A great sorrow, like a mariner's quadrant, brings the sun at noon down to the horizon, and we learn where we are… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Grief Copy Share Image
Even the blackest of them all, the crow, Renders good service as your man-at-arms, Crushing the beetle in his coat of mail.… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
As the heart is, so is love to the heart. It partakes of its strength or weakness, its health or disease. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Disease Copy Share Image
The pleasant books, that silently among Our household treasures take familiar places, And are to us as if a living tongue Spake… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Book Copy Share Image
See yonder little cloud, that, borne aloft So tenderly by the wind, floats fast away Over the snowy peaks! — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Our blossoms of passion, gay and luxuriant flowers, are bright and full of fragrance, but they beguile us and lead us astray,… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Blossoms Copy Share Image
A man must be of a very quiet and happy nature, who can long endure the country; and, moreover, very well contented… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Country Copy Share Image
A handful of red sand from the hot clime Of Arab deserts brought, Within this glass becomes the spy of Time, The… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Desert Copy Share Image
“ Daily the tides of life go ebbing and flowing beside them, Thousands of throbbing hearts, where theirs are at rest and forever,… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Life Copy Share Image
Even He that died for us upon the cross, in the last hour, in the unutterable agony of death, was mindful of… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Agony Copy Share Image
Art is the child of Nature; yes, Her darling child, in whom we trace The features of the mother's face, Her aspect… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Art Copy Share Image
The student has his Rome, his Florence, his whole glowing Italy, within the four walls of his library. He has in his… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Antiques Copy Share Image
Good-night! good-night! as we so oft have said Beneath this roof at midnight, in the days That are no more, and shall… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
The secret studies of an author are the sunken piers upon which is to rest the bridge of his fame, spanning the… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Books Copy Share Image
Thus, seamed with many scars Bursting these prison bars, Up to its native stars My soul ascended! There from the flowing bowl… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
The nimble lie Is like the second-hand upon a clock; We see it fly; while the hour-hand of truth Seems to stand… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Clock Copy Share Image
I love an author the more for having been himself a lover of books. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Author Copy Share Image
The heart, like the mind, has a memory. And in it are kept the most precious keepsakes. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Heart Copy Share Image
The story, from beginning to end, I found again in a heart of a friend. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Listen my children and you shall hear, Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Children Copy Share Image
