Quotes from Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

There is no death! What seems so is transition; this life of mortal breath is but a suburb of the life elysian, whose portal we call Death.

Time is the life of the soul.

Like a French poem is life; being only perfect in structure when with the masculine rhymes mingled the feminine are.

The setting of a great hope is like the setting of the sun. The brightness of our life is gone.

I do not believe anyone can be perfectly well, who has a brain and a heart

Sculpture is more than painting. It is greater To raise the dead to life than to create Phantoms that seem to live.

In the world's broad field of battle, In the bivouac of Life, Be not like dumb, driven cattle! Be a hero in the strife!

Know how sublime a thing it is to suffer and be strong.

Perseverance is a great element of success. If you only knock long enough and loud enough at the gate, you are sure to wake up somebody.

Man is always more than he can know of himself; consequently, his accomplishments, time and again, will come as a surprise to him.

In the long run men hit only what they aim at.

The talent of success is nothing more than doing what you can do, well.

However things may seem, no evil thing is success and no good thing is failure.

Perseverance is a great element of success.

Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream!

Does not all the blood within me Leap to meet thee, leap to meet thee, As the springs to meet the sunshine.

It has done me good to be somewhat parched by the heat and drenched by the rain of life.

A great sorrow, like a mariner's quadrant, brings the sun at noon down to the horizon, and we learn where we are on the sea of life.

How far the gulf-stream of our youth may flow Into the arctic regions of our lives, Where little else than life itself survives.

Each new epoch in life seems an encounter. There is a tussle and a cloud of dust, and we come out of it triumphant or crest-fallen, according as we have borne ourselves.

How can I tell the signals and the signs By which one heart another heart divines? How can I tell the many thousand ways By which it keeps the secret it betrays?

Sweet April! many a thought Is wedded unto thee, as hearts are wed; Nor shall they fail, till, to its autumn brought, Life's golden fruit is shed.

As to the pure mind all things are pure, so to the poetic mind all things are poetical.

I stay a little longer, as one stays, to cover up the embers that still burn.