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My own thoughts Are my companions.
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
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Thoughts
More quotes by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
My soul is full of longing for the secret of the sea
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The Wreck of the Hesperus But the father answered never a word, A frozen corpse was he.
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Music is the language spoken by angels.
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For bells are the voice of the church They have tones that touch and search The hearts of young and old.
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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.
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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
The mind of the scholar, if you would have it large and liberal, should come in contact with other minds. It is better that his armor should be somewhat bruised by rude encounters even, than hang forever rusting on the wall.
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The secret anniversaries of the heart.
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Even the blackest of them all, the crow, Renders good service as your man-at-arms, Crushing the beetle in his coat of mail. And crying havoc on the slug and snail.
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If we could read the secret history of our enemies.
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People demand freedom only when they have no power.
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People of a lively imagination are generally curious, and always so when a little in love.
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Life hath quicksands, Life hath snares!
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Each morning sees some task begin, each evening sees it close.
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Go forth to meet the shadowy future without fear and with a manly heart.
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Sang in tones of deep emotion Songs of love and songs of longing.
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The rays of happiness, like those of light, are colorless when unbroken.
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The natural alone is permanent.
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Silence and solitude, the soul's best friends.
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Mercy more becomes a magistrate than the vindictive wrath which men call justice.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow