Look, then, into thine heart, and write! — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Go forth to meet the shadowy future without fear and with a manly heart. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Every human heart is human. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Fear is the virtue of slaves; but the heart that loveth is willing. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The secret anniversaries of the heart. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

It is the heart and not the brain, That to the highest doth attain. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Ah, Nothing is too late, till the tired heart shall cease to palpitate. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Take this sorrow to thy heart and make it part of thee, and it shall nourish thee till thou art strong again. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

No one is so accursed by fate, no one so utterly desolate, but some heart though unknown responds unto his own. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

My Book and Heart Shall never part. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The true poet is a friendly man. He takes to his arms even cold and inanimate things, and rejoices in his heart. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Our hearts are lamps for ever burning. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Fair words gladden so many a heart. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Be still, sad heart! and cease repining; Behind the clouds is the sun still shining — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The holiest of holidays are those kept by ourselves in silence and apart; The secret anniversaries of the heart. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The heart, like the mind, has a memory. And in it are kept the most precious keepsakes. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Let us then be up and doing, With a heart for any fate, Still achieving, still pursuing, Learn to labor and to wait. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Stay, stay at home, my heart and rest; Home–keeping hearts are happiest. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The poor too often turn away unheard, From hearts that shut against them with a sound That will be heard in heaven. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Therefore trust to thy heart, and to what the world calls illusions. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

A torn jacket is soon mended, but hard words bruise the heart of a child. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

It takes less time to do a thing right, than it does to explain why you did it wrong. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Art is long, and Time is fleeting. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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

Youth comes but once a life time. Perhaps, but it remains strong in many for their entire lives. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

We are all architects of faith, ever living in these walls of time. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And departing, leave behind us Footprints on the sands of time. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

We have not wings we cannot soar; but, we have feet to scale and climb, by slow degrees, by more and more, the cloudy summits of our time. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Enjoy the Spring of Love and Youth, to some good angel leave the rest; For Time will teach thee soon the truth, there are no birds in last year’s nest! — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

A handful of red sand from the hot clime Of Arab deserts brought, Within this glass becomes the spy of Time, The minister of Thought. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Time has laid his hand Upon my heart, gently, not smiting it, But as a harper lays his open palm Upon his harp, to deaden its vibrations. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Art is long, and Time is fleeting, And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like muffled drums, are beating Funeral marches to the grave. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

All are architects of Fate, Working in these walls of Time; Some with massive deeds and great, Some with ornaments of rhyme. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Time, like a preacher in the days of the Puritans, turned the hour–glass on his high pulpit, the church belfry. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Life hath quicksands, Life hath snares! — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Into each life some rain must fall. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Life like an empty dream flits by. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

And in the wreck of noble lives Something immortal still survives. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Death is the chillness that precedes the dawn; We shudder for a moment, then awake In the broad sunshine of the other life. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Life is the gift of God, and is divine. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Hope has as many lives as a cat or a king. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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

O thou child of many prayers! Life hath quicksands, Life hath snares! Care and age come unawares! — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

A life that is worth writing at all is worth writing minutely. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Love is sunshine, hate is shadow, Life is checkered shade and sunshine. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Perhaps the greatest lesson which the lives of literary men teach us is told in a single word* Wait! — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

What else remains for me? Youth, hope and love; To build a new life on a ruined life. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Safe from temptation, safe from sin’s pollution, She lives whom we call dead. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Live up to the best that is in you: Live noble lives, as you all may, in whatever condition you may find yourselves. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The setting of a great hope is like the setting of the sun. The brightness of our life is gone. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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

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! — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The life of a man consists not in seeing visions and in dreaming dreams, but in active charity and in willing service. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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

Balder the Beautiful Is dead, is dead! — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Let the dead Past bury its dead! — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Dead he is not, but departed, for the artist never dies. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The air is full of farewells to the dying. And mournings for the dead. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

No literature is complete until the language it was written in is dead. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

There is no flock, however watched and tended, but one dead lamb is there! There is no fireside howsoe’er defended, but has one vacant chair. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The Nile, forever new and old, Among the living and the dead, Its mighty, mystic stream has rolled. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Ye are better than all the ballads That ever were sung or said; For ye are living poems, And all the rest are dead. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The prayer of Ajax was for light. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The rays of happiness, like those of light, are colorless when unbroken. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I dislike an eye that twinkles like a star. Those only are beautiful which, like the planets, have a steady lambent light, are luminous, but not sparkling. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I see, but cannot reach, the height That lies forever in the light. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Out of the shadows of night The world rolls into light. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Down sank the great red sun, and in golden, glimmering vapors Veiled the light of his face, like the Prophet descending from Sinai. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The grave itself is but a covered bridge, Leading from light to light, through a brief darkness! — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

There is no light in earth or heaven but the cold light of stars; and the first watch of night is given to the red planet Mars. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The swallow is come! The swallow is come! O, fair are the seasons, and light Are the days that she brings, With her dusky wings, And her bosom snowy white! — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

By unseen hands uplifted in the light Of sunset, yonder solitary cloud Floats, with its white apparel blown abroad, And wafted up to heaven. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The lamps are lit, the fires burn bright. The house is full of life and light. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I am the Angel of the Sun Whose flaming wheels began to run When God’s almighty breath Said to the darkness and the Night, Let there be light! and there was light. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Truly, this world can go on without us, if we would but think so. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Glorious indeed is the world of God around us, but more glorious the world of God within us. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

In this world a man must either be anvil or hammer. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

One half the world must sweat and groan that the other half may dream. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

What discord should we bring into the universe if our prayers were all answered! Then we should govern the world, and not God. And do you think we should govern it better? — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Round about what is, lies a whole mysterious world of might be, a psychological romance of possibilities and things that do not happen. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Our ingress into the world Was naked and bare; Our progress through the world Is trouble and care. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Into a world unknown,–the corner–stone of a nation! — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

He looks the whole world in the face for he owes not any man. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Trouble is the next best thing to enjoyment; there is no fate in the world so horrible as to have no share in either its joys or sorrows. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The men that women marry, And why they marry them, will always be A marvel and a mystery to the world. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The spirit–world around this world of sense Floats like an atmosphere, and everywhere Wafts through these earthly mists and vapours dense A vital breath of more ethereal air. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Believe me, every man has his secret sorrows, which the world knows not; and oftimes we call a man cold when he is only sad. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The student has his Rome, his Florence, his whole glowing Italy, within the four walls of his library. He has in his books the ruins of an antique world and the glories of a modern one. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The nearer the dawn the darker the night. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Be thy sleep Silent as night is, and as deep. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Then stars arise, and the night is holy. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

But the nearer the dawn the darker the night, And by going wrong all things come right. Things have been mended that were worse, and the the worse, the nearer they are to mend. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Oh, how short are the days! How soon the night overtakes us! — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Midnight! the outpost of advancing day! The frontier town and citadel of night! — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Between the dark and the daylight, When the night is beginning to lower, Comes a pause in the day’s occupations, That is known as the Children’s Hour. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Prayer is innocence’s friend; and willingly flieth incessant ‘twist the earth and the sky, the carrier–pigeon of heaven. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

They who live in history only seemed to walk the earth again. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

For ’tis sweet to stammer one letter Of the Eternal’s language;–on earth it is called Forgiveness! — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

For hate is strong, And mocks the song Of peace on earth, good–will to men! — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Every arrow that flies feels the pull of the earth. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

These stars of earth, these golden flowers. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

God is not dead; nor doth He sleep; … The wrong shall fail, The right prevail, With peace on earth, good will to men. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

They, the holy ones and weakly, Who the cross of suffering bore, Folded their pale hands so meekly, Spake with us on earth no more! — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I shot an arrow into the air, it fell to earth, I knew not where. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Men of genius are often dull and inert in society; as the blazing meteor, when it descends to earth, is only a stone. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow