Share
×
Inspirational Quotes
Authors
Professions
Topics
Tags
Quote
Every man has a paradise around him till he sins, and the angel of an accusing conscience drives him from his Eden.
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
Conscience
Sin
Accusing
Around
Eden
Every
Drives
Men
Sins
Paradise
Till
Angel
More quotes by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Sweet April! many a thought Is wedded unto thee, as hearts are wed Nor shall they fail, till, to its autumn brought, Life's golden fruit is shed.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Fame comes only when deserved, and then is as inevitable as destiny, for it is destiny.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
What is time? The shadow on the dial, the striking of the clock, the running of the sand, day and night, summer and winter, months, years, centuries-these are but arbitrary and outward signs, the measure of Time, not Time itself. Time is the Life of the Soul.
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
The atmosphere breathes rest and comfort, and the many chambers seem full of welcomes.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Gone are the living, but the dead remain, And not neglected for a hand unseen, Scattering its bounty like a summer rain, Still keeps their graves and their remembrance green.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The surest pledge of a deathless name Is the silent homage of thoughts unspoken.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In December ring Every day the chimes Loud the gleemen sing In the streets their merry rhymes. Let us by the fire Ever higher Sing them till the night expire!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Mercy more becomes a magistrate than the vindictive wrath which men call justice.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
You would attain to the divine perfection.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The air is full of farewells to the dying. And mournings for the dead.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
How beautiful is the rain! After the dust and the heat, In the broad and fiery street, In the narrow lane, How beautiful is the rain!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
When Christ ascended Triumphantly from star to star He left the gates of Heaven ajar.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I feel a kind of reverence for the first books of young authors. There is so much aspiration in them, so much audacious hope and trembling fear, so much of the heart's history, that all errors and shortcomings are for a while lost sight of in the amiable self assertion of youth.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Down sank the great red sun, and in golden, glimmering vapors Veiled the light of his face, like the Prophet descending from Sinai.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
It is curious to note the old sea-margins of human thought! Each subsiding century reveals some new mystery we build where monsters used to hide themselves.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Silently, one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven, Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
And the wind plays on those great sonorous harps, the shrouds and masts of ships.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Many a poem is marred by a superfluous verse.
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
