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Morality without religion is only a kind of dead reckoning - an endeavor to find our place on a cloudy sea by measuring the distance we have run, but without any observation of the heavenly bodies.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Age: 75 †
Born: 1807
Born: January 1
Died: 1882
Died: March 24
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Henry W. Longfellow
H. W. Longfellow
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More quotes by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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Even cities have their graves!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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It is the heart and not the brain, That to the highest doth attain.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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In what a forge and what a heat were shaped the anchors of thy hope! Fear not each sudden sound and shock 'Tis of the wave and not the rock.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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The student has his Rome, his Florence, his whole glowing Italy, within the four walls of his library. He has in his books the ruins of an antique world and the glories of a modern one.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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The lowest ebb is the turn of the tide.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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I am the Angel of the Sun Whose flaming wheels began to run When God's almighty breath Said to the darkness and the Night, Let there be light! and there was light.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Sunday is the golden clasp that binds together the volume of the week.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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The holiest of all holidays are those Kept by ourselves in silence and apart The secret anniversaries of the heart, When the full river of feeling overflows- The happy days unclouded to their close The sudden joys that our of darkness start As flames from ashes swift desires that dart Like swallows singing down each wind that blows!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Love contending with friendship, and self with each generous impulse. To and fro in his breast his thoughts were heaving and dashing, As in a foundering ship.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Nature is a revelation of God Art a revelation of man.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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What is time? The shadow on the dial, the striking of the clock, the running of the sand, day and night, summer and winter, months, years, centuries-these are but arbitrary and outward signs, the measure of Time, not Time itself. Time is the Life of the Soul.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Life is the gift of God, and is divine.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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More hearts are breaking in this world of ours Than one would say. In distant villages And solitudes remote, where winds have wafted The barbed seeds of love, or birds of passage Scattered them in their flight, do they take root, And grow in silence, and in silence perish.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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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 keep The long, mysterious Exodus of Death.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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I dislike an eye that twinkles like a star. Those only are beautiful which, like the planets, have a steady lambent light, are luminous, but not sparkling.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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I feel a kind of reverence for the first books of young authors. There is so much aspiration in them, so much audacious hope and trembling fear, so much of the heart's history, that all errors and shortcomings are for a while lost sight of in the amiable self assertion of youth.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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I heard the bells on Christmas Day Their old, familiar carols play, And wild and sweet The words repeat Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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The rapture of pursuing is the prize the vanquished gain.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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He spoke well who said that graves are the footprints of angels.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow