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I am more afraid of deserving criticism than of receiving it.
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
Deserving
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More quotes by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Even cities have their graves!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
To be infatuated with the power of one's own intellect is an accident which seldom happens but to those who are remarkable for the want of intellectual power. Whenever Nature leaves a hole in a person's mind, she generally plasters it over with a thick coat of self-conceit.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
From dust thou art to dust returneth, was not spoken of the soul.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The greatest grace of a gift, perhaps, is that it anticipates and admits of no return.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Many people do not allow their principles to take root, but pull them up every now and then, as children do the flowers they have planted, to see if they are growing.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
He spoke well who said that graves are the footprints of angels.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
It is true, that it is not at all necessary to love many books, in order to love them much.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I stay a little longer, as one stays, to cover up the embers that still burn.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
'Tis always morning somewhere, and aboveThe awakening continents, from shore to shore,Somewhere the birds are singing evermore.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
And as she looked around, she saw how Death the consoler, Laying his hand upon many a heart, had healed it forever.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
They who live in history only seemed to walk the earth again.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Learn to labour and to wait.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
And the bright faces of my young companions Are wrinkled like my own, or are no more.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Oh, how short are the days! How soon the night overtakes us!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
More hearts are breaking in this world of ours Than one would say. In distant villages And solitudes remote, where winds have wafted The barbed seeds of love, or birds of passage Scattered them in their flight, do they take root, And grow in silence, and in silence perish.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
That tree is very old, but I never saw prettier blossoms on it than it now bears. That tree grows new wood each year. Like that apple tree, I try to grow a new little wood each year.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Nor deem the irrevocable Past As wholly wasted, wholly vain, If, rising on its wrecks, at last To something nobler we attain.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Stars of earth, these golden flowers emblems of our own great resurrection emblems of the bright and better land.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Books are sepulchres of thought.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Noble souls, through dust and heat, rise from disaster and defeat the stronger.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
