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Thought takes man out of servitude, into freedom.
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
Translator
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Portland
Maine
Henry W. Longfellow
H. W. Longfellow
00018405207 IPI
Longfellow
Thought
Men
Thinking
Servitude
Takes
Freedom
More quotes by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
There are moments in life, when the heart is so full of emotion That if by chance it be shaken, or into its depths like a pebble Drops some careless word, it overflows, and its secret, Spilt on the ground like water, can never be gathered together.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In the long run men hit only what they aim at.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
O thou child of many prayers! Life hath quicksands, Life hath snares! Care and age come unawares!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Who dares To say that he alone has found the truth?
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
Be thy sleep Silent as night is, and as deep.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The secret anniversaries of the heart.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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
Who ne'er his bread in sorrow ate, Who ne'er the mournful midnight hours Weeping upon his bed has sate, He knows you not, ye Heavenly Powers.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Look, then, into thine heart, and write! Yes, into Life's deep stream! All forms of sorrow and delight, All solemn Voices of the Night, That can soothe thee, or affright, - Be these henceforth thy theme. (excerpt from Voices of the Night)
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The talent of success is nothing more than doing what you can do, well.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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
For next to being a great poet is the power of understanding one.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
For his heart was in his work, and the heart giveth grace unto every art.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Softly the evening came /with the sunset/.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
If you would hit the mark, you must aim a little above it.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
All sense of hearing and of sight enfold in the serene delight and quietude of sleep.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The heart, like the mind, has a memory. And in it are kept the most precious keepsakes.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Some poems are like the Centaurs--a mingling of man and beast, and begotten of Ixion on a cloud.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Something the heart must have to cherish, Must love and joy and sorrow learn Something with passion clasp, or perish And in itself to ashes burn.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
