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Will without power is like children playing at soldiers.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Age: 75 †
Born: 1807
Born: January 1
Died: 1882
Died: March 24
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Portland
Maine
Henry W. Longfellow
H. W. Longfellow
00018405207 IPI
Longfellow
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More quotes by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Two ways the rivers Leap down to different seas, and as they roll Grow deep and still, and their majestic presence Becomes a benefaction to the towns They visit, wandering silently among them, Like patriarchs old among their shining tents.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Mercy more becomes a magistrate than the vindictive wrath which men call justice.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
People of a lively imagination are generally curious, and always so when a little in love.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I like that ancient Saxon phrase, which calls The burial-ground God's-Acre! It is just It consecrates each grave within its walls, And breathes a benison o'er the sleeping dust.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Look, then, into thine heart, and write! Yes, into Life's deep stream! All forms of sorrow and delight, All solemn Voices of the Night, That can soothe thee, or affright, - Be these henceforth thy theme. (excerpt from Voices of the Night)
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I love the season well When forest glades are teeming with bright forms, Nor dark and many-folded clouds foretell The coming of storms.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
There is no death! What seems so is transition this life of mortal breath is but a suburb of the life elysian, whose portal we call Death.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A town that boasts inhabitants like me Can have no lack of good society.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Love contending with friendship, and self with each generous impulse. To and fro in his breast his thoughts were heaving and dashing, As in a foundering ship.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Southward with fleet of ice Sailed the corsair Death Wild and fast blew the blast, And the east-wind was his breath.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Love gives itself it is not bought.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A handful of red sand from the hot clime Of Arab deserts brought, Within this glass becomes the spy of Time, The minister of Thought.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
But oftentimes celestial benedictions Assume this dark disguise.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Ah, to build, to build! That is the noblest art of all the arts. Painting and sculpture are but images, Are merely shadows cast by outward things On stone or canvas, having in themselves No separate existence. Architecture, Existing in itself, and not in seeming A something it is not, surpasses them As substance shadow.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Trouble is the next best thing to enjoyment there is no fate in the world so horrible as to have no share in either its joys or sorrows.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
How like they are to human things!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
But the great Master said, I see No best in kind, but in degree I gave a various gift to each, To charm, to strengthen, and to teach.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
And the bright faces of my young companions Are wrinkled like my own, or are no more.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
People demand freedom only when they have no power.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
What is time? The shadow on the dial, the striking of the clock, the running of the sand, day and night, summer and winter, months, years, centuries-these are but arbitrary and outward signs, the measure of Time, not Time itself. Time is the Life of the Soul.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow