The holiest of holidays are those kept by ourselves in silence and apart; The secret anniversaries of the heart. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow More Quotes by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow More Quotes From Henry Wadsworth Longfellow There is a Reaper, whose name is Death, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow flowernamesdeath Men are four; Henry Wadsworth Longfellow kingsnightchildren God sent his Singers upon earth Henry Wadsworth Longfellow sadnessheartsong This is the place. Stand still, my steed,- Let me review the scene, And summon from the shadowy past The forms that once have been. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow formscenepast Look upon the errors of others in sorrow, not in anger. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow errorssorrowlooks Many readers judge of the power of a book by the shock it gives their feelings - as some savage tribes determine the power of muskets by their recoil; that being considered best which fairly prostrates the purchaser. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow readingfunnybook Ripe in wisdom was he, but patient, and simple, and childlike. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow patientwisdomsimple Thou shalt learn Henry Wadsworth Longfellow utilitytrue-beauty To be infatuated with the power of one's own intellect is an accident which seldom happens but to those who are remarkable for the want of intellectual power. Whenever Nature leaves a hole in a person's mind, she generally plasters it over with a thick coat of self-conceit. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow intellectualselfmind See yonder fire! It is the moon slow rising o'er the eastern hill. It glimmers on the forest tips, and through the dewy foliage drips In little rivulets of light, and makes the heart in love with night. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow moonheartnight Out of the bosom of the Air, Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken, Over the woodlands brown and bare, Over the harvest-fields forsaken, Silent, and soft, and slow Descends the snow. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow aircloudssnow The atmosphere breathes rest and comfort, and the many chambers seem full of welcomes. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow atmospherecomfortthank-you If the mind, that rules the body, ever so far forgets itself as to trample on its slave, the slave is never generous enough to forgive the injury, but will rise and smite the oppressor. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow forgivingbodymind I have a passion for ballad. . . . They are the gypsy children of song, born under green hedgerows in the leafy lanes and bypaths of literature,--in the genial Summertime. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow passionsongchildren Give what you have. To some one, it may be better than you dare to think. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow kindnessinspirationallife As I gaze upon the sea! All the old romantic legends, all my dreams, come back to me. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow legendsseadream I do not believe anyone can be perfectly well, who has a brain and a heart Henry Wadsworth Longfellow brainheartbelieve Sculpture is more than painting. It is greater To raise the dead to life than to create Phantoms that seem to live. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow sculpturephantomspainting I cannot believe any man can be perfectly well in body, who has much labor of the mind to perform. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow mindmenbelieve Great men stand like solitary towers in the city of God. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow greatnesscitiesmen
