Poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Quotes

Inspirational quotes by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

If I am not worth the wooing, I am surely not worth the winning.
The talent of success is nothing more than doing what you can do well, and doing well whatever you do without thought of fame. If it comes at all it will come because it is deserved, not because it is sought after.
Tell me not, in mournful numbers,Life is but an empty dreamFor the soul is dead that slumbers,and things are not what they seem.Life is real Life is earnestAnd the grave is not its goalDust thou art to dust returnest,Was not spoken of the soul.
Give what you have. To someone, it may be better than you dare to think.
A torn jacket is soon mended but hard words bruise the heart of a child.
A torn jacket is soon mended; but hard words bruise the heart of a child.
Age is opportunity no less than youth itself.
All the means of action - the shapeless masses - the materials - lie everywhere about us. What we need is the celestial fire to change the flint into the transparent crystal, bright and clear. That fire is genius.
All things must change to something new, to something strange.
Doubtless criticism was originally benignant, pointing out the beauties of a work rather that its defects. The passions of men have made it malignant, as a bad heart of Procrustes turned the bed, the symbol of repose, into an instrument of torture.
Give what you have. To some it may be better than you dare think.
Great is the art of beginning, but greater is the art of ending.
He that respects himself is safe from others. He wears a coat of mail that none can pierce.
It is an illusion that youth is happy, an illusion of those who have lost it.
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.
It takes less time to do things right than to explain why you did it wrong.
Know how sublime a thing is to suffer and be strong.
Learn to labour and to wait.
Let us, then be up and doing, With a heart for any fate; Still achieving, still pursuing, Learn to labour and to wait.
Let us, then, be up and doing, with a heart for any fate Still achieving, still pursuing, learn to labor and to wait.
Life is real Life is earnest And the grave is not its goal Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.
Look not mournfully into the Past. It comes not back again. Wisely improve the Present. In is thine. Go forth to meet the shadowy Future, without fear, and a manly heart.
Look not mournfully into the past. It comes not back again. Wisely improve the present. It is thine. Go forth to meet the shadowy future, without fear.
Men of genius are often dull and inert in society, as a blazing meteor when it descends to earth, is only a stone.
Most people would succeed in small things if they were not troubled with great ambitions.
Silently one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven, Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels.
Talk not of wasted affection affection never was wasted.
Talk not of wasted affection, affection never was wasted, If it enrich not the heart of another, its waters returning Back to their springs, like the rain shall fill them full of refreshment That which the fountain sends forth returns again to the fountain.
Talk not of wasted affection, affection never was wasted, If it enrich not the heart of another, its waters returning Back to their springs, like the rain shall fill them full of refreshment; That which the fountain sends forth returns again to the fountain.
Talk not of wasted affection; affection never was wasted.

Poem of the day

Christina Rossetti Poem
In Progress
 by Christina Rossetti

Ten years ago it seemed impossible
That she should ever grow so calm as this,
With self-remembrance in her warmest kiss
And dim dried eyes like an exhausted well.
Slow-speaking when she has some fact to tell,
Silent with long-unbroken silences,
Centred in self yet not unpleased to please,
Gravely monotonous like a passing bell.
...

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