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Books are sepulchres of thought.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Age: 75 †
Born: 1807
Born: January 1
Died: 1882
Died: March 24
Novelist
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Portland
Maine
Henry W. Longfellow
H. W. Longfellow
00018405207 IPI
Longfellow
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Books
Thought
More quotes by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Day, like a weary pilgrim, had reached the western gate of heaven, and Evening stooped down to unloose the latchets of his sandal shoon.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Buried was the bloody hatchet Buried was the dreadful war-club Buried were all warlike weapons, And the war-cry was forgotten. Then was peace among the nations.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I will be a man among men and no longer a dreamer among shadows. Henceforth be mine a life of action and reality! I will work in my own sphere, nor wish it other than it is. This alone is health and happiness.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In what a forge and what a heat were shaped the anchors of thy hope! Fear not each sudden sound and shock 'Tis of the wave and not the rock.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
How in the turmoil of life can love stand, Where there is not one heart, and one mouth and one hand.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In ourselves are triumph and defeat.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
White swan of cities slumbering in thy nest . . . White phantom city, whose untrodden streets Are rivers, and whose pavements are the shifting Shadows of the palaces and strips of sky.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A solid man of Boston A comfortable man with dividends, And the first salmon and the first green peas.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I cannot believe any man can be perfectly well in body, who has much labor of the mind to perform.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
He spoke well who said that graves are the footprints of angels.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
One, if by land, and two, if by sea And I on the opposite shore will be, Ready to ride and spread the alarm Through every Middlesex village and farm For the country folk to be up and to arm.
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
The spirit-world around this world of sense Floats like an atmosphere, and everywhere Wafts through these earthly mists and vapours dense A vital breath of more ethereal air.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The sunshine fails, the shadows grow more dreary, And I am near to fall, infirm and weary.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Saint Augustine! well hast thou said, That of our vices we can frame A ladder, if we will but tread Beneath our feet each deed of shame.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Thinking the deed, and not the creed, Would help us in our utmost need.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
And when the echoes had ceased, like a sense of pain was the silence.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
It has done me good to be somewhat parched by the heat and drenched by the rain of life.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Many readers judge of the power of a book by the shock it gives their feelings.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
They who live in history only seemed to walk the earth again.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow