“Be still, sad heart! and cease repining; Behind the clouds is the sun still shining” — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Art is the child of nature in whom we trace the features of the mothers face. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Art Copy Share Image
Our pleasures and our discontents, Are rounds by which we may ascend. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Discontent Copy Share Image
Often times we call a man [or woman] cold when he [or she] is only sad. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Cold Copy Share Image
Thought takes man out of servitude, into freedom. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Freedom Copy Share Image
Love is sunshine, hate is shadow, Life is checkered shade and sunshine. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Checkered Copy Share Image
Nature is a revelation of God; Art is a revelation of man — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Artist Copy Share Image
“I hear the wind among the trees playing the celestial symphonies.” — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Trees Copy Share Image
Authors must not, like Chinese soldiers, expect to win victories by turning somersets in the air. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
A Lady with a Lamp shall stand In the great history of the land, A noble type of good, Heroic womanhood. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Great history Copy Share Image
For the structure that we raise, Time is with materials filled; Our to-days and yesterdays Are the blocks with which we build. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Architecture Copy Share Image
So Nature deals with us, and takes away Our playthings one by one, and by the hand Leads us to rest. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
All was ended now, the hope, and the fear and the sorrow, All the aching of the heart, the restless, unsatisfied longing,… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Anguish Copy Share Image
I like that ancient Saxon phrase, which calls The burial-ground God's-Acre! It is just; It consecrates each grave within its walls, And… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
“Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, / Is our destined end or way, / But to act, that each to-morrow / Find us farther than today.” — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Destiny Copy Share Image
Spake full well, in language quaint and olden, One who dwelleth by the castled Rhine, When he called the flowers, so blue… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Blue Copy Share Image
When thou are not pleased, beloved, Then my heart is sad and darkened, As the shining river darkens When the clouds drop… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Beloved Copy Share Image
The history of the past is a mere puppet-show. A little man comes out and blows a little trumpet, and goes in… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
The holiest of all holidays are those Kept by ourselves in silence and apart; The secret anniversaries of the heart, When the… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Ashes Copy Share Image
Look, then, into thine heart, and write! Yes, into Life's deep stream! All forms of sorrow and delight, All solemn Voices of… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Delight Copy Share Image
“There are moments in life, when the heart is so full of emotion that if by chance it be shaken, or into… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Chance Copy Share Image
So disasters come not singly; But as if they watched and waited, Scanning one another's motions, When the first descends, the others… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
“Were half the power that fills the world with terror, Were half the wealth bestowed on camps and courts, Given to redeem… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Look at this vigorous plant that lifts its head from the meadow, See how its leaves are turned to the north, as… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Compass Copy Share Image
I know not how it is, but during a voyage I collect books as a ship does barnacles. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Barnacles Copy Share Image
Sail on, O Ship of State! Sail on, O Union, strong and great. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow America Copy Share Image
Happy art thou, as if every day thou hadst picked up a horseshoe. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Art Copy Share Image
A boy's will is the wind's will, and the thought's of youth are long, long thoughhts — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Boys Copy Share Image
A town that boasts inhabitants like me Can have no lack of good society. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Boast Copy Share Image
Know how sublime a thing it is to suffer and be strong. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Endurance Copy Share Image
The market-place, the eager love of gain, Whose aim is vanity, and whose end is pain! — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Winter giveth the fields, and the trees so old, their beards of icicles and snow. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
And in the wreck of noble lives Something immortal still survives. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Art is the gift of God, and must be used unto His glory. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Art Copy Share Image
He looks the whole world in the face for he owes not any man. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
I am more afraid of deserving criticism than of receiving it. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Criticism Copy Share Image
“A boy's will is the wind's will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.” — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Boys Copy Share Image
To be left alone, and face to face with my own crime, had been just retribution. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Crime Copy Share Image
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