Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Quotes

We judge ourselves by what we feel capable of doing, while others judge us by what we have already done.

We judge ourselves by what we feel capable of doing, while others judge us by what we have already done.

In character, in manner, in style, in all things, the supreme excellence is simplicity.

In character, in manner, in style, in all things, the supreme excellence is simplicity.

Nor deem the irrevocable Past,
As wholly wasted, wholly vain,
If, rising on its wrecks, at last
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Nor deem the irrevocable Past,
As wholly wasted, wholly vain,
If, rising on its wrecks, at last
To something nobler we attain.

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

I heard the bells on Christmas Day; their old familiar carols play, and wild and sweet the word repeat of read more

I heard the bells on Christmas Day; their old familiar carols play, and wild and sweet the word repeat of peace on earth, good-will to men!

At first laying down, as a fact fundamental,
That nothing with God can be accidental.

At first laying down, as a fact fundamental,
That nothing with God can be accidental.

To-morrow! the mysterious, unknown guest,
Who cries to me: "Remember Barmecide,
And tremble to be happy with read more

To-morrow! the mysterious, unknown guest,
Who cries to me: "Remember Barmecide,
And tremble to be happy with the rest."
And I make answer: "I am satisfied;
I dare not ask; I know not what is best;
God hath already said what shall betide."

Since yesterday I have been in Alcala.
Erelong the time will come, sweet Preciosa,
When that dull read more

Since yesterday I have been in Alcala.
Erelong the time will come, sweet Preciosa,
When that dull distance shall no more divide us;
And I no more shall scale thy wall by night
To steal a kiss from thee, as I do now.

It is Lucifer,
The son of mystery;
And since God suffers him to be,
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It is Lucifer,
The son of mystery;
And since God suffers him to be,
He, too, is God's minister,
And labors for some good
By us not understood.

There is no grief like the grief that does not speak.

There is no grief like the grief that does not speak.