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The world loves a spice of wickedness.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Age: 75 †
Born: 1807
Born: January 1
Died: 1882
Died: March 24
Novelist
Poet
Professor
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Portland
Maine
Henry W. Longfellow
H. W. Longfellow
00018405207 IPI
Longfellow
Spice
Spices
Wickedness
Loves
Love
World
More quotes by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Oh, how short are the days! How soon the night overtakes us!
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To say the least, a town life makes one more tolerant and liberal in one's judgment of others.
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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.
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Fear is the virtue of slaves but the heart that loveth is willing.
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A torn jacket is soon mended but hard words bruise the heart of a child.
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Not chance of birth or place has made us friends, Being oftentimes of different tongues and nations, But the endeavor for the selfsame ends, With the same hopes, and fears, and aspirations.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The country is lyric, the town dramatic. When mingled, they make the most perfect musical drama.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
As to the pure mind all things are pure, so to the poetic mind all things are poetical.
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Day of the Lord, as all our days should be!
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How beautiful the silent hour, when morning and evening thus sit together, hand in hand, beneath the starless sky of midnight!
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Method is more important than strength, when you wish to control your enemies. By dropping golden beads near a snake, a crow once managed To have a passer-by kill the snake for the beads.
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Many critics are like woodpeckers, who, instead of enjoying the fruit and shadow of a tree, hop incessantly around the trunk, pecking holes in the bark to discover some little worm or other.
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Into each life some rain must fall.
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If you would hit the mark, you must aim a little above it.
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The first pressure of sorrow crushes out from our hearts the best wine afterwards the constant weight of it brings forth bitterness, the taste and stain from the lees of the vat.
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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.
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That tree is very old, but I never saw prettier blossoms on it than it now bears. That tree grows new wood each year. Like that apple tree, I try to grow a new little wood each year.
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The greatest firmness is the greatest mercy.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Beautiful in form and feature, lovely as the day, can there be so fair a creature formed of common clay?
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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