All Quotes

"Thine was the prophet's vision, thine The exaltation, the divine Insanity of noble minds, That never falters nor abates, But labors and endures and waits, Till all that it foresees it finds Or what it can not find creates."

"Art is the child of Nature; yes, Her darling child, in whom we trace The features of the mother's face, Her aspect and her attitude, All her majestic loveliness Chastened and softened and subdued Into a more attractive grace, And with a human sense imbued. He is the greatest artist, then, Whether of pencil or of pen, Who follows Nature."

"What land is this? Yon pretty town Is Delft, with all its wares displayed: The pride, the market-place, the crown And centre of the Potter's trade."

"She knew the life-long martyrdom, The weariness, the endless pain Of waiting for some one to come Who nevermore would come again."

"Three Silences there are: the first of speech, The second of desire, the third of thought; This is the lore a Spanish monk, distraught With dreams and visions, was the first to teach."

"The holiest of all holidays are those Kept by ourselves in silence and apart; The secret anniversaries of the heart, When the full river of feeling overflows."

"Sleep, comrades, sleep and rest On this Field of the Grounded Arms, Where foes no more molest, Nor sentry’s shot alarms!"

"Ye have slept on the ground before, And started to your feet At the cannon’s sudden roar, Or the drum’s redoubling beat. But in this camp of Death No sound your slumber breaks; Here is no fevered breath, No wound that bleeds and aches."

"All is repose and peace, Untrampled lies the sod; The shouts of battle cease, It is the Truce of God! Rest, comrades, rest and sleep! The thoughts of men shall be As sentinels to keep Your rest from danger free. Your silent tents of green We deck with fragrant flowers; Yours has the suffering been, The memory shall be ours."

"Hospitality sitting with Gladness."

"There is no greater sorrow Than to be mindful of the happy time In misery."

"Though the mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small; Though with patience he stands waiting, with exactness grinds he all."

"I would like to ask you if you have ever read what I consider the greatest of poems of the United States—that is, Longfellow's Song of Hiawatha ... And then through that poem you have descriptions of Indian life and Indian legends which to me are of inexpressible beauty; and I do not hesitate to say, as far as my reading has led me to judge, that that is a poem that deserves to live, and will live; and at this moment it is the finest poem of any length that has been produced by any writer of the United States."

"Were't the last drop in the well, As I gasp'd upon the brink, Ere my fainting spirit fell 'T is to thee that I would drink."

"I wish I had known you, Longfellow, but truly I did, as a small reader with a book cracked wide, speaking aloud on the old wooden stairs of my grandparents' home, saying your words, between the daylight and the dark, swinging them like small lanterns which have brought me to this place by your bed on a late day in June, in your yellow house by the giant linden tree, still wondering at words and the length of a mattress."

"Another poem that appeals to all bold, courageous souls in "The Warning," by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, who, some critics aver, won more English hearts over to the anti-slavery cause than did the "Quaker Poet."

"When age chills the blood, when our pleasures are past— For years fleet away with the wings of the dove— The dearest remembrance will still be the last, Our sweetest memorial the first kiss of love."

"Farewell! if ever fondest prayer For other's weal avail'd on high, Mine will not all be lost in air, But waft thy name beyond the sky."

"I only know we loved in vain; I only feel — farewell! farewell!"

"When we two parted In silence and tears, Half brokenhearted, To sever for years."

"In secret we met In silence I grieve, That thy heart could forget, Thy spirit deceive. If I should meet thee After long years, How should I greet thee? With silence and tears."

"Near this spot Are deposited the Remains of one Who possessed Beauty without Vanity, Strength without Insolence, Courage without Ferocity, And all the virtues of Man, without his Vices. This Praise, which would be unmeaning Flattery If inscribed over human ashes, Is but a just tribute to the Memory of BOATSWAIN, a DOG"

"The poor dog, in life the firmest friend, The first to welcome, foremost to defend."

"Maid of Athens, ere we part, Give, oh give me back my heart!"

"The love where Death has set his seal, Nor age can chill, nor rival steal, Nor falsehood disavow."

"And thou wert lovely to the last, Extinguish'd, not decay'd; As stars that shoot along the sky Shine brightest as they fall from high."

"If I am fool, it is, at least, a doubting one; and I envy no one the certainty of his self-approved wisdom."

"Where may the wearied eye repose When gazing on the Great; Where neither guilty glory glows, Nor despicable state? Yes — one — the first — the last — the best — The Cincinnatus of the West, Whom envy dared not hate, Bequeath'd the name of Washington, To make man blush there was but one!"

"You are the fools, not I — for I did dwell With a deep thought, and with a softened eye, On that Old Sexton's natural homily, In which there was Obscurity and Fame, The Glory and the Nothing of a Name."

"Who knows whether, when a comet shall approach this globe to destroy it, as it often has been and will be destroyed, men will not tear rocks from their foundations by means of steam, and hurl mountains, as the giants are said to have done, against the flaming mass?—and then we shall have traditions of Titans again, and of wars with Heaven."

"My great comfort is, that the temporary celebrity I have wrung from the world has been in the very teeth of all opinions and prejudices. I have flattered no ruling powers; I have never concealed a single thought that tempted me."

"Fare thee well! and if forever, Still forever, fare thee well: Even though unforgiving, never 'Gainst thee shall my heart rebel."

"My hair is grey, but not with years, Nor grew it white In a single night, As men's have grown from sudden fears."

"Oh, God! it is a fearful thing To see the human soul take wing In any shape, in any mood."

"A light broke in upon my brain, — It was the carol of a bird; It ceased, and then it came again, The sweetest song ear ever heard."

"There 's not a joy the world can give like that it takes away."

"There be none of Beauty's daughters With a magic like thee; And like music on the waters Is thy sweet voice to me."

"I had a dream, which was not all a dream."

"Though the day of my Destiny's over, And the star of my Fate hath declined, Thy soft heart refused to discover The faults which so many could find."

"In the desert a fountain is springing, In the wide waste there still is a tree, And a bird in the solitude singing, Which speaks to my spirit of thee."

"The careful pilot of my proper woe."

"As the liberty lads o'er the sea Bought their freedom, and cheaply, with blood, So we, boys, we Shall die fighting or live free, And down with all kings but King Ludd!"

"My boat is on the shore, And my bark is on the sea; But, before I go, Tom Moore. Here's a double health to thee!"

"Here's a sigh to those who love me, And a smile to those who hate: And, whatever sky's above me, Here's a heart for every fate."

""Bring forth the horse!" — the horse was brought; In truth, he was a noble steed, A Tartar of the Ukraine breed, Who look'd as though the speed of thought Were in his limbs."

"And if we do but watch the hour, There never yet was human power Which could evade, if unforgiven, The patient search and vigil long Of him who treasures up a wrong."

"When a man hath no freedom to fight for at home, Let him combat for that of his neighbours; Let him think of the glories of Greece and of Rome And get knock'd on the head for his labours. To do good to mankind is the chivalrous plan, And is always as nobly requited; Then battle for freedom wherever you can. And, if not shot or hang'd, you'll get knighted."

"Oh, talk not to me of a name great in story; The days of our youth are the days of our glory; And the myrtle and ivy of sweet two-and-twenty Are worth all your laurels, though ever so plenty."

"The best of prophets of the future is the past."

"The world is a bundle of hay, Mankind are the asses that pull, Each tugs in a different way— And the greatest of all is John Bull!"