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In youth all doors open outward in old age all open inward.
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
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Portland
Maine
Henry W. Longfellow
H. W. Longfellow
00018405207 IPI
Longfellow
Doors
Open
Age
Outward
Inward
Youth
More quotes by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Therefore trust to thy heart, and to what the world calls illusions.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
When Christ ascended Triumphantly from star to star He left the gates of Heaven ajar.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Music is the language spoken by angels.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
If we could read the secret history of our enemies.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The moon is hidden behind a cloud... On the leaves is a sound of falling rain... No other sounds than these I hear The hour of midnight must be near... So many ghosts, and forms of fright, Have started from their graves to-night, They have driven sleep from mine eyes away: I will go down to the chapel and pray.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The heart, like the mind, has a memory. And in it are kept the most precious keepsakes.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The Laws of Nature are just, but terrible. There is no weak mercy in them. Cause and consequence are inseparable and inevitable.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Whatever poet, orator, or sage may say of it, old age is still old age.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
None but yourself who are your greatest foe.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
'Tis always morning somewhere, and aboveThe awakening continents, from shore to shore,Somewhere the birds are singing evermore.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
For bells are the voice of the church They have tones that touch and search The hearts of young and old.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
More and more do I feel, as I advance in life, how little we really know of each other. Friendship seems to me like the touch of musical-glasses--it is only contact but the glasses themselves, and their contents, remain quite distinct and unmingled.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I have a passion for ballad. . . . They are the gypsy children of song, born under green hedgerows in the leafy lanes and bypaths of literature,--in the genial Summertime.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Fame grows like a tree if it have the principle of growth in it the accumulated dews of ages freshen its leaves.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Art is long, and time is fleeting, And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like muffled drums, are beating Funeral marches to the grave.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Day of the Lord, as all our days should be!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Such was the wreck of the Hesperus, In the midnight and the snow! Christ save us all from a death like this, On the reef of Norman's Woe!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Some poems are like the Centaurs--a mingling of man and beast, and begotten of Ixion on a cloud.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Be noble in every thought And in every deed!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
