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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
Translator
Writer
Portland
Maine
Henry W. Longfellow
H. W. Longfellow
00018405207 IPI
Longfellow
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More quotes by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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'Twas Easter-Sunday. The full-blossomed trees Filled all the air with fragrance and with joy.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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A torn jacket is soon mended but hard words bruise the heart of a child.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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The foods that prolong life and increase purity, vigour, health, cheerfulness, and happiness are those that are delicious, soothing, substantial and agreeable... Foods that are bitter, sour, salt, over-hot, pungent, dry and burning produce unhappiness, repentance and disease.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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For his heart was in his work, and the heart giveth grace unto every art.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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He spoke well who said that graves are the footprints of angels.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Morality without religion is only a kind of dead reckoning - an endeavor to find our place on a cloudy sea by measuring the distance we have run, but without any observation of the heavenly bodies.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Magnificent autumn! He comes not like a pilgrim, clad in russet weeds not like a hermit, clad in gray but like a warrior with the stain of blood in his brazen mail.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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The mind of the scholar, if he would leave it large and liberal, should come in contact with other minds.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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People demand freedom only when they have no power.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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O holy trust! O endless sense of rest! Like the beloved John To lay his head upon the Saviour's breast, And thus to journey on!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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My own thoughts Are my companions.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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More hearts are breaking in this world of ours Than one would say. In distant villages And solitudes remote, where winds have wafted The barbed seeds of love, or birds of passage Scattered them in their flight, do they take root, And grow in silence, and in silence perish.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Simplicity in character, in manners, in style in all things the supreme excellence is simplicity.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Ah, how good it feels! The hand of an old friend.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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In ourselves are triumph and defeat.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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The natural alone is permanent.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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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
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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
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The day is done and slowly from the scene the stooping sun upgathers his spent shafts, and puts them back into his golden quiver!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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There's nothing fair nor beautiful, but takes Something from thee, that makes it beautiful.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow