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It has done me good to be somewhat parched by the heat and drenched by the rain of life.
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
Heat
Gratitude
Rain
Done
Good
Life
Parched
Drenched
Somewhat
More quotes by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
And in the wreck of noble lives Something immortal still survives.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
How beautiful is the rain! After the dust and the heat, In the broad and fiery street, In the narrow lane, How beautiful is the rain!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Art is the child of Nature yes, Her darling child, in whom we trace The features of the mother's face, Her aspect and her attitude, All her majestic loveliness Chastened and softened and subdued Into a more attractive grace, And with a human sense imbued. He is the greatest artist, then, Whether of pencil or of pen, Who follows Nature.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Among the noblest in the land - Though man may count himself the least - That man I honor and revere, Who without favor, without fear, In the great city dares to stand, The friend of every friendless beast.
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
People demand freedom only when they have no power.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I have a passion for ballad. . . . They are the gypsy children of song, born under green hedgerows in the leafy lanes and bypaths of literature,--in the genial Summertime.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Give what you have. To some one, it may be better than you dare to think.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The history of the past is a mere puppet-show. A little man comes out and blows a little trumpet, and goes in again. You look for something new, and lo! another little man comes out, and blows another little trumpet, and goes in again. And it is all over.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Tomorrow is the mysterious, unknown guest.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
How beautiful the silent hour, when morning and evening thus sit together, hand in hand, beneath the starless sky of midnight!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
For 'tis sweet to stammer one letter Of the Eternal's language - on earth it is called Forgiveness!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Dreams or illusions, call them what you will, they lift us from the commonplace of life to better things.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Youth comes but once a life time. Perhaps, but it remains strong in many for their entire lives.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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
In the elder days of art Builders wrought with greatest care Each minute and unseen part, For the Gods are everywhere
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Don Quixote thought he could have made beautiful bird-cages and toothpicks if his brain had not been so full of ideas of chivalry. Most people would succeed in small things if they were not troubled with great ambitions.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Sit in reverie and watch the changing color of the waves that break upon the idle seashore of the mind.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Man is always more than he can know of himself consequently, his accomplishments, time and again, will come as a surprise to him.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
They are dead but they live in each Patriot's breast, And their names are engraven on honor's bright crest.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
