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Well I know the secret places, And the nests in hedge and tree At what doors are friendly faces, In what hearts are thoughts of me.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Age: 75 †
Born: 1807
Born: January 1
Died: 1882
Died: March 24
Novelist
Poet
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Portland
Maine
Henry W. Longfellow
H. W. Longfellow
00018405207 IPI
Longfellow
Secret
Hedge
Faces
Nests
Wells
Friendly
Well
Hearts
Heart
Places
Doors
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Tree
More quotes by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The foods that prolong life and increase purity, vigour, health, cheerfulness, and happiness are those that are delicious, soothing, substantial and agreeable... Foods that are bitter, sour, salt, over-hot, pungent, dry and burning produce unhappiness, repentance and disease.
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Youth, hope, and love: To build a new life on a ruined life, To make the future fairer than the past, And make the past appear a troubled dream.
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The air is full of farewells to the dying. And mournings for the dead.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Dead he is not, but departed, for the artist never dies.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Some critics are like chimney-sweepers they put out the fire below, and frighten the swallows from their nests above they scrape a long time in the chimney, cover themselves with soot, and bring nothing away but a bag of cinders, and then sing from the top of the house as if they had built it.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Noble souls, through dust and heat, rise from disaster and defeat the stronger.
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
The sun is set and in his latest beams Yon little cloud of ashen gray and gold, Slowly upon the amber air unrolled, The falling mantle of the Prophet seems.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The happy should not insist too much upon their happiness in the presence of the unhappy.
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Silence and solitude, the soul's best friends.
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All was silent as before - All silent save the dripping rain.
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Winter giveth the fields, and the trees so old, their beards of icicles and snow.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Books are sepulchres of thought.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Out of the shadows of night The world rolls into light.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Many a poem is marred by a superfluous verse.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The lamps are lit, the fires burn bright. The house is full of life and light.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Dreams or illusions, call them what you will, they lift us from the commonplace of life to better things.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Into each life some rain must fall.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
People demand freedom only when they have no power.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
What shall I say to you? What can I say Better than silence is?
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
