Share
×
Inspirational Quotes
Authors
Professions
Topics
Tags
Quote
The true poet is a friendly man. He takes to his arms even cold and inanimate things, and rejoices in his heart.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Share
Change background
T
T
T
Change font
Original
TAGS & TOPICS
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
Takes
True
Rejoices
Even
Inanimate
Heart
Rejoice
Things
Friendly
Men
Poet
Arms
Cold
More quotes by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
And the wind plays on those great sonorous harps, the shrouds and masts of ships.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Music is the universal language of mankind.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Glorious indeed is the world of God around us, but more glorious the world of God within us.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
My soul is full of longing for the secret of the sea, and the heart of the great ocean sends a thrilling pulse through me.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I am the Angel of the Sun Whose flaming wheels began to run When God's almighty breath Said to the darkness and the Night, Let there be light! and there was light.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The lowest ebb is the turn of the tide.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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
A millstone and the human heart are driven ever round, If they have nothing else to grind, they must themselves be ground.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A spirit of criticism, if indulged in, leads to a censoriousness of disposition that is destructive of all nobler feeling. The man who lives to find faults has a miserable mission.
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
The story, from beginning to end, I found again in a heart of a friend.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Ah, how good it feels! The hand of an old friend.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
For 'tis sweet to stammer one letter Of the Eternal's language - on earth it is called Forgiveness!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Music is the language spoken by angels.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Books are sepulchres of thought.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
My soul is full of longing for the secret of the sea
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Time rides with the old At a great pace. As travellers on swift steeds See the near landscape fly and flow behind them, While the remoter fields and dim horizons Go with them, and seem wheeling round to meet them, So in old age things near us slip away, And distant things go with us.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The first pressure of sorrow crushes out from our hearts the best wine afterwards the constant weight of it brings forth bitterness, the taste and stain from the lees of the vat.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The day is dark and cold and dreary it rains, and the wind is never weary.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
