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The snow had begun in the gloaming, and busily all the night had been heaping field and highway with a silence deep and white.

James Russell Lowell

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James Russell Lowell
Age: 72 †
Born: 1819
Born: February 22
Died: 1891
Died: August 12
Diplomat
Essayist
Journalist
Literary Critic
Poet
Writer
Cambridge
Massachusetts
Field
Fields
Gloaming
Deep
Busily
Silence
Heaping
White
Highway
Night
Highways
Begun
Snow

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And but two ways are offered to our will, Toil with rare triumph, ease with safe disgrace, The problem still for us and all of human race.
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Solitude is as needful to the imagination as society is wholesome for the character.
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He gives us the very quintessence of perception,-the clearly crystalized precipitation of all that is most precious in the ferment of impression after the impertinent and obtrusive particulars have evaporated from the memory.
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One thorn of experience is worth a whole wilderness of warning.
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Then to side with Truth is noble when we share her wretched crust, Ere her cause bring fame and profit, and 't is prosperous to be just Then it is the brave man chooses, while the coward stands aside, Doubting in his abject spirit, till his Lord is crucified.
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True scholarship consists in knowing not what things exist, but what they mean it is not memory but judgment.
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All thoughtful men are solitary and original in themselves.
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The stiff rails were softened to swan's-down, and still fluttered down the snow.
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Where Church and State are habitually associated, it is natural that minds, even of a high order, should unconsciously come to regard religion as only a subtler mode of police.
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Over our manhood bend the skies Against our fallen and traitor lives The great winds utter prophecies With our faint hearts the mountain strives, Its arms outstretched, the druid wood Waits with its benedicite And to our age’s drowsy blood Still shouts the inspiring sea.
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A weed is no more than a flower in disguise.
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Thank God every morning when you get up that you have something to do that day, which must be done, whether you like it or not.
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Freedom is the only law which genius knows.
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Some day the soft Ideal that we wooed confronts us fiercely, foe-beset, pursued, and cries reproachful: Was it then my praise, and not myself was loved? Prove now thy truth I claim of thee the promise of thy youth.
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It is curious how tyrannical the habit of reading is, and what shifts we make to escape thinking. There is no bore we dread being left alone with so much as our own minds.
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I who still pray at morning and at eve Thrice in my life perhaps have truly prayed, Thrice stirred below conscious self Have felt that perfect disenthrallment which is God.
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The traitor to Humanity is the traitor most accursed Man is more than Constitutions better rot beneath the sod, Than be true to Church and State while we are doubly false to God.
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In all literary history there is no such figure as Dante, no such homogeneousness of life and works, such loyalty to ideas, such sublime irrecognition of the unessential.
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The devil loves nothing better than the intolerance of reformers.
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Toward no crimes have men shown themselves so cold- bloodedly cruel as in punishing differences of belief.
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