Share
×
Inspirational Quotes
Authors
Professions
Topics
Tags
Quote
Ah, the souls of those that die Are but sunbeams lifted higher.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Share
Change background
T
T
T
Change font
Original
TAGS & TOPICS
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Age: 75 †
Born: 1807
Born: January 1
Died: 1882
Died: March 24
Novelist
Poet
Professor
Translator
Writer
Portland
Maine
Henry W. Longfellow
H. W. Longfellow
00018405207 IPI
Longfellow
Souls
Higher
Dies
Soul
Sunbeams
Lifted
More quotes by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A town that boasts inhabitants like me Can have no lack of good society.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Age is opportunity no less than youth itself.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
And in the wreck of noble lives Something immortal still survives.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The greatest grace of a gift, perhaps, is that it anticipates and admits of no return.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
And the bright faces of my young companions Are wrinkled like my own, or are no more.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Today is the blocks with which we build.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Who dares To say that he alone has found the truth?
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The rays of happiness, like those of light, are colorless when unbroken.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
'Tis always morning somewhere, and aboveThe awakening continents, from shore to shore,Somewhere the birds are singing evermore.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Sunday is the golden clasp that binds together the volume of the week.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Nothing useless is, or low Each thing in its place is best And what seems but idle show Strengthens and supports the rest.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The true poet is a friendly man. He takes to his arms even cold and inanimate things, and rejoices in his heart.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Success is not something to wait for, it is something to work for.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
My soul is full of longing for the secret of the sea, and the heart of the great ocean sends a thrilling pulse through me.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I do not love thee less for what is done, And cannot be undone. Thy very weakness Hath brought thee nearer to me, and henceforth My love will have a sense of pity in it, Making it less a worship than before.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.
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
The star of the unconquered will, He rises in my breast, Serene, and resolute, and still, And calm, and self-possessed.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Mine is the Month of Roses yes, and mine The Month of Marriages! All pleasant sights And scents, the fragrance of the blossoming vine, The foliage of the valleys and the heights. Mine are the longest days, the loveliest nights The mower's scythe makes music to my ear I am the mother of all dear delights I am the fairest daughter of the year.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A millstone and the human heart are driven ever round, If they have nothing else to grind, they must themselves be ground.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
