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Man is unjust, but God is just and finally justice triumphs.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Age: 75 †
Born: 1807
Born: January 1
Died: 1882
Died: March 24
Novelist
Poet
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Portland
Maine
Henry W. Longfellow
H. W. Longfellow
00018405207 IPI
Longfellow
Injustice
Finally
Justice
Men
Triumphs
Unjust
Triumph
More quotes by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Great men stand like solitary towers in the city of God.
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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.
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Listen my children and you shall hear, Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere
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One, if by land, and two, if by sea And I on the opposite shore will be, Ready to ride and spread the alarm Through every Middlesex village and farm For the country folk to be up and to arm.
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Silence is a great peacemaker.
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They who live in history only seemed to walk the earth again.
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Let nothing disturb thee, Nothing affright thee All things are passing God never changeth Patient endurance Attaineth to all things Who God possesseth In nothing is wanting Alone God sufficeth.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Youth comes but once in a lifetime.
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Tomorrow is the mysterious, unknown guest.
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The Helicon of too many poets is not a hill crowned with sunshine and visited by the Muses and the Graces, but an old, mouldering house, full of gloom and haunted by ghosts.
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The strength of criticism lies in the weakness of the thing criticized.
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Art is the gift of God, and must be used unto His glory.
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The greatest grace of a gift, perhaps, is that it anticipates and admits of no return.
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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!
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Read from some humbler poet, Whose songs gushed from his heart, As showers from the clouds of summer, Or tears from the eyelids start.
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Hope has as many lives as a cat or a king.
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Fame comes only when deserved, and then is as inevitable as destiny, for it is destiny.
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Fame grows like a tree if it have the principle of growth in it the accumulated dews of ages freshen its leaves.
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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
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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