My designs and labors and aspirations are my only friends. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
The story, from beginning to end, I found again in a heart of a friend. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
“Straight between them ran the pathway, Never grew the grass upon it” — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Yes, we must ever be friends; and of all who offer you friendship Let me be ever the first, the truest, the… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
The true poet is a friendly man. He takes to his arms even cold and inanimate things, and rejoices in his heart. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Prayer is innocence's friend; and willingly flieth incessant 'twist the earth and the sky, the carrier-pigeon of heaven. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
When you ask one friend to dine, Give him your best wine! When you ask two, The second best will do! — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Love contending with friendship, and self with each generous impulse. To and fro in his breast his thoughts were heaving and dashing,… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Welcome, Disappointment! Thy hand is cold and hard, but it is the hand of a friend. Thy voice is stern and harsh,… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
“Let us, then, be what we are, and speak what we think, and in all things Keep ourselves loyal to truth, and… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
More and more do I feel, as I advance in life, how little we really know of each other. Friendship seems to… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Not chance of birth or place has made us friends, Being oftentimes of different tongues and nations, But the endeavor for the… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
A coquette is a young lady of more beauty than sense, more accomplishments than learning, more charms not person than graces of… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
The little I have seen of the world teaches me to look upon the errors of others in sorrow, not in anger.… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
“ The Arrow and the Song I shot an arrow into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where; For,… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
I shot an arrow into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where; For, so swiftly it flew, the sight… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
The spring came suddenly, bursting upon the world as a child bursts into a room, with a laugh and a shout and hands full… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
In old age our bodies are worn-out instruments, on which the soul tries in vain to play the melodies of youth. But because the… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
“ Endymion The rising moon has hid the stars; Her level rays, like golden bars, Lie on the landscape green, With shadows brown between.… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
There's nothing fair nor beautiful, but takes Something from thee, that makes it beautiful. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Fame comes only when deserved, and then is as inevitable as destiny, for it is destiny. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Nature paints not; In oils, but frescoes the great dome of heaven; With sunsets, and the lovely forms of clouds; And flying vapors. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
“ Thus dwelt together in love these simple Acadian farmers,— Dwelt in the love of God and of man. Alike were they free from Fear,… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
The trees are white with dust, that o'er their sleep Wave their broad curtains in the south-wind's breath, While underneath such leafy tents they… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Heights by great men reached and kept were not obtained by sudden flight but, while their companions slept, they were toiling upward in the… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
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,… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Thus departed Hiawatha, Hiawatha the Beloved, In the glory of the sunset, In the purple mists of evening, To the regions of the home-wind,… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
