Quotes from Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

When she had passed, it seemed like the ceasing of exquisite music.

The Helicon of too many poets is not a hill crowned with sunshine and visited by the Muses and the Graces, but an old, mouldering house, full of gloom and haunted by ghosts.

Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing, only a signal shown, and a distant voice in the darkness; So on the ocean of life, we pass and speak one another, only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence.

The human voice is the organ of the soul.

If you only knock long enough and loud enough at the gate, you are sure to wake up somebody.

They who go Feel not the pain of parting; it is they Who stay behind that suffer.

In the mouths of many men soft words are like roses that soldiers put into the muzzles of their muskets on holidays.

As Unto the bow the the cord is , So unto the man is woman; Though she bends him, she obeys him, Though she draws him , yet she follows: Useless each without the other.

I will be a man among men; and no longer a dreamer among shadows.

Make not thyself the judge of any man.

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.

Perhaps the greatest lesson which the lives of literary men teach us is told in a single word* Wait!

Each morning sees some task begun, each evening sees it close; Something attempted, something done, has earned a night's repose.

Each morning sees some task begin, each evening sees it close.

The morning pouring everywhere, its golden glory on the air.

The great tragedy of the average man is that he goes to his grave with his music still in him.

And the night shall be filled with music, And the cares, that infest the day, Shall fold their tents like the Arabs, and silently steal away.

Nature paints not; In oils, but frescoes the great dome of heaven; With sunsets, and the lovely forms of clouds; And flying vapors.

I hear the wind among the trees Playing the celestial symphonies; I see the branches downward bent, Like keys of some great instrument.

The Laws of Nature are just, but terrible. There is no weak mercy in them. Cause and consequence are inseparable and inevitable.

All nature ... is a respiration Of the Spirit of God, who, in breathing hereafter Will inhale it into his bosom again, So that nothing but God alone will remain.

Art is the child of nature in whom we trace the features of the mothers face.

'Tis always morning somewhere, and aboveThe awakening continents, from shore to shore,Somewhere the birds are singing evermore.

No tears Dim the sweet look that Nature wears.