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Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, Is our destined end or way But to act, that each tomorrow Find us farther than today.
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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Portland
Maine
Henry W. Longfellow
H. W. Longfellow
00018405207 IPI
Longfellow
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Inspirational
More quotes by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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 breathes a benison o'er the sleeping dust.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Youth comes but once in a lifetime.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I stay a little longer, as one stays, to cover up the embers that still burn.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
My soul is full of longing for the secret of the sea
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I am weary of your quarrels, Weary of your wars and bloodshed, Weary of your prayers for vengeance, Of your wranglings and dissensions
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The air is full of farewells to the dying. And mournings for the dead.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Authors have a greater right than any copyright, though it is generally unacknowledged or disregarded. They have a right to the reader's civility. There are favorable hours for reading a book, as for writing it, and to these the author has a claim. Yet many people think that when they buy a book they buy with it the right to abuse the author.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Don't cross the bridge til you come to it.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
O thou child of many prayers! Life hath quicksands, Life hath snares! Care and age come unawares!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
All are architects of Fate, Working in these walls of Time Some with massive deeds and great, Some with ornaments of rhyme.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Gone are the living, but the dead remain, And not neglected for a hand unseen, Scattering its bounty like a summer rain, Still keeps their graves and their remembrance green.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
There's not a ship that sails the ocean, But every climate, every soil, Must bring its tribute, great or small, And help to build the wooden wall!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Time has a doomsday book, upon whose pages he is continually recording illustrious names. But as often as a new name is written there, an old one disappears. Only a few stand in illuminated characters never to be effaced.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The rapture of pursuing is the prize the vanquished gain.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
No tears Dim the sweet look that Nature wears.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
For bells are the voice of the church They have tones that touch and search The hearts of young and old.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Love gives itself it is not bought.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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
And the night shall be filled with music, And the cares, that infest the day, Shall fold their tents like the Arabs, and silently steal away.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Fear is the virtue of slaves but the heart that loveth is willing.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow