Every man has a paradise around him till he sins, and the angel of an accusing conscience drives him from his Eden. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And departing, leave behind us Footprints on the sands… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
For hate is strong, And mocks the song Of peace on earth, good-will to men! — 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
The men that women marry, And why they marry them, will always be A marvel and a mystery to the world. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Every man is in some sort a failure to himself. No one ever reaches the heights to which he aspires. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 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
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 Copy Share Image
God sent his Singers upon earth With songs of sadness and of mirth, That they might touch the hearts of men, And… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
A spirit of criticism, if indulged in, leads to a censoriousness of disposition that is destructive of all nobler feeling. The man… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Weak minds make treaties with the passions they cannot overcome, and try to purchase happiness at the expense of principle; but the… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 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
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
Were a star quenched on high,For ages would its light,Still travelling downward from the sky,Shine on our mortal sight. So when a… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Under the spreading chestnut tree The village smithy stands; The smith, a mighty man is he, With large and sinewy hands; And… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
In the lives of the saddest of us, there are bright days like this, when we feel as if we could take… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
The Laws of Nature are just, but terrible. There is no weak mercy in them. Cause and consequence are inseparable and inevitable.… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Men should soon make up their minds to be forgotten, and look about them, or within them, for some higher motive in… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
I will be a man among men; and no longer a dreamer among shadows. Henceforth be mine a life of action and… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Among the noblest in the land - Though man may count himself the least - That man I honor and revere, Who… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Alas! it is not till time, with reckless hand, has torn out half the leaves from the Book of Human Life to… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
There in seclusion and remote from men The wizard hand lies cold, Which at its topmost speed let fall the pen, And… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
As Unto the bow the the cord is , So unto the man is woman; Though she bends him, she obeys him,… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
How wonderful is the human voice! It is indeed the organ of the soul. The intellect of man is enthroned visibly on… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Sculpture is more divine, and more like Nature, That fashions all her works in high relief, And that is Sculpture. This vast… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
Where should the scholar live? In solitude, or in society? in the green stillness of the country, where he can hear the… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
No man is so poor as to have nothing worth giving; as well might the mountain streamlets say they have nothing to… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
I venerate old age; and I love not the man who can look without emotion upon the sunset of life, when the… — 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
