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In the mouths of many men soft words are like roses that soldiers put into the muzzles of their muskets on holidays.
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
Writer
Portland
Maine
Henry W. Longfellow
H. W. Longfellow
00018405207 IPI
Longfellow
Many
Soldiers
Men
Hypocrisy
Like
Holiday
Soft
Soldier
Muskets
Mouths
Muzzle
Rose
Holidays
Words
Roses
More quotes by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Mercy more becomes a magistrate than the vindictive wrath which men call justice.
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The spring came suddenly, bursting upon the world as a child bursts into a room, with a laugh and a shout and hands full of flowers.
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Then from the neighboring thicket the mocking-bird, wildest of singers, Swinging aloft on a willow spray that hung o'er the water, Shook from his little throat such floods of delirious music, That the whole air and the woods and the waves seemed silent to listen.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Our pleasures and our discontents, Are rounds by which we may ascend.
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He spoke well who said that graves are the footprints of angels.
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Listen my children and you shall hear, Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere
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Perseverance is a great element of success. If you only knock long enough and loud enough at the gate, you are sure to wake up somebody.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
When we walk towards the sun of Truth, all shadows are cast behind us.
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There's nothing fair nor beautiful, but takes Something from thee, that makes it beautiful.
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O thou child of many prayers! Life hath quicksands, Life hath snares! Care and age come unawares!
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The happy should not insist too much upon their happiness in the presence of the unhappy.
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A solid man of Boston A comfortable man with dividends, And the first salmon and the first green peas.
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The pleasant books, that silently among Our household treasures take familiar places, And are to us as if a living tongue Spake from the printed leaves or pictured faces!
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Method is more important than strength, when you wish to control your enemies.
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A Lady with a Lamp shall stand In the great history of the land, A noble type of good, Heroic womanhood.
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Age is opportunity no less than youth itself.
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Your silent tents of green We deck with fragrant flowers Yours has the suffering been, The memory shall be ours.
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Down sank the great red sun, and in golden, glimmering vapors Veiled the light of his face, like the Prophet descending from Sinai.
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Fame comes only when deserved, and then is as inevitable as destiny, for it is destiny.
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Autumn arrives like a warrior with the stain of blood upon his brazen mail. His crimson scarf is rent. His scarlet banner drips with gore. His step is like a flail upon the threshing floor.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow