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And in the wreck of noble lives Something immortal still survives.
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
Immortality
Immortal
Noble
Lives
Stills
Still
Wreck
Something
Survives
Wrecks
More quotes by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
'Tis always morning somewhere, and aboveThe awakening continents, from shore to shore,Somewhere the birds are singing evermore.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Think of your woods and orchards without birds! Of empty nests that cling to boughs and beams As in an idiot's brain remembered words Hang empty 'mid the cobwebs of his dreams!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Nature paints not In oils, but frescoes the great dome of heaven With sunsets, and the lovely forms of clouds And flying vapors.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
By the shore of Gitche Gumee, By the shining Big-Sea-Water, At the doorway of his wigwam, In the pleasant Summer morning, Hiawatha stood and waited.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
So Nature deals with us, and takes away Our playthings one by one, and by the hand Leads us to rest.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I am more afraid of deserving criticism than of receiving it. I stand in awe of my own opinion. The secret demerits of which we alone, perhaps, are conscious, are often more difficult to bear than those which have been publicly censured in us, and thus in some degree atoned for.
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
Ah, how good it feels! The hand of an old friend.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The spirit-world around this world of sense Floats like an atmosphere, and everywhere Wafts through these earthly mists and vapours dense A vital breath of more ethereal air.
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
Even He that died for us upon the cross, in the last hour, in the unutterable agony of death, was mindful of His mother, as if to teach us that this holy love should be our last worldly thought - the last point of earth from which the soul should take its flight for heaven.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Oh, how short are the days! How soon the night overtakes us!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Great is the art of beginning, but greater is the art of ending.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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
Three silences there are: the first of speech, the second of desire, the third of thought.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
What else remains for me? Youth, hope and love To build a new life on a ruined life.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
As to the pure mind all things are pure, so to the poetic mind all things are poetical.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Every author has the whole past to contend with all the centuries are upon him. He is compared with Homer, Dante, Shakespeare, Milton.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Gone are the birds that were our summer guests.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
