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The soul never grows old.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Age: 75 †
Born: 1807
Born: January 1
Died: 1882
Died: March 24
Novelist
Poet
Professor
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Portland
Maine
Henry W. Longfellow
H. W. Longfellow
00018405207 IPI
Longfellow
Never
Grows
Soul
More quotes by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
It was the schooner Hesperus, That sailed the wintry sea.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
It is the heart and not the brain, That to the highest doth attain.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Love is sunshine, hate is shadow, Life is checkered shade and sunshine.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
You would attain to the divine perfection.
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A spirit of criticism, if indulged in, leads to a censoriousness of disposition that is destructive of all nobler feeling. The man who lives to find faults has a miserable mission.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
If we could read the secret history of our enemies.
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.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
What shall I say to you? What can I say Better than silence is?
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
All that is best in the great poets of all countries is not what is national in them, but what is universal.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Love keeps the cold out better than a cloak.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Many a poem is marred by a superfluous verse.
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Softly the evening came /with the sunset/.
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The story, from beginning to end, I found again in a heart of a friend.
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Many critics are like woodpeckers, who, instead of enjoying the fruit and shadow of a tree, hop incessantly around the trunk, pecking holes in the bark to discover some little worm or other.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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
There's nothing fair nor beautiful, but takes Something from thee, that makes it beautiful.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Then followed that beautiful season... Summer.... Filled was the air with a dreamy and magical light and the landscape Lay as if new created in all the freshness of childhood.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Sometimes we may learn more from a man's errors, than from his virtues.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
It was Autumn, and incessant Piped the quails from shocks and sheaves, And, like living coals, the apples Burned among the withering leaves.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
