Maxioms by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Day, like a weary pilgrim, had reached the western gate of
heaven, and Evening stooped down to unloose the read more
Day, like a weary pilgrim, had reached the western gate of
heaven, and Evening stooped down to unloose the latchets of his
sandal shoon.
Every human heart is human.
Every human heart is human.
Even the blackest of them all, the crow,
Renders good service as your man-at-arms,
Crushing the beetle read more
Even the blackest of them all, the crow,
Renders good service as your man-at-arms,
Crushing the beetle in his coat of mail,
And crying havoc on the slug and snail.
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow,
Sculpture is more than painting. It is greater
To raise the dead to life than to create
read more
Sculpture is more than painting. It is greater
To raise the dead to life than to create
Phantoms that seem to live.
There is no grief like the grief that does not speak
There is no grief like the grief that does not speak
