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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
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Poet
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Portland
Maine
Henry W. Longfellow
H. W. Longfellow
00018405207 IPI
Longfellow
Soul
Never
Grows
More quotes by 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
Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The strength of criticism lies in the weakness of the thing criticized.
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
Love is a bodily shape and Christian works are no more than animate faith and love, as flowers are the animate springtide.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The lowest ebb is the turn of the tide.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The sentence of the first murderer was pronounced by the Supreme Judge of the universe. Was it death? No, it was life. 'A fugitive and a vagabond shalt thou be in the earth' and 'Whosoever slayeth Cain, vengeance shall be taken on him sevenfold.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
It takes less time to do a thing right, than it does to explain why you did it wrong.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Talk not of wasted affection - affection never was wasted.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A man must be of a very quiet and happy nature, who can long endure the country and, moreover, very well contented with his own insignificant person.
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
Great is the art of beginning, but greater is the art of ending.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Therefore trust to thy heart, and to what the world calls illusions.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The setting of a great hope is like the setting of the sun. The brightness of our life is gone. Shadows of evening fall around us, and the world seems but a dim reflection - itself a broader shadow. We look forward into the coming lonely night. The soul withdraws into itself. Then stars arise, and the night is holy.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
So Nature deals with us, and takes away Our playthings one by one, and by the hand Leads us to rest so gently, that we go, Scarce knowing if we wish to go or stay, Being too full of sleep to understand How far the unknown transcends the what we know.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
With useless endeavour Forever, forever, Is Sisyphus rolling His stone up the mountain!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Success is not something to wait for, it is something to work for.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I heard the bells on Christmas Day Their old, familiar carols play, And wild and sweet The words repeat Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Life hath quicksands, Life hath snares!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Glorious indeed is the world of God around us, but more glorious the world of God within us.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
