For his heart was in his work, and the heart giveth grace unto every art. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Authors must not, like Chinese soldiers, expect to win victories by turning — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Whenever nature leaves a hole in a person’s mind, she generally plasters — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
For hate is strong, And mocks the song Of peace on earth, good-will to men! — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Stay, stay at home, my heart and rest; Home-keeping hearts are happiest. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
And the wind plays on those great sonorous harps, the shrouds and masts of ships. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The sea hath its pearls The heaven hath its stars But my heart, my heart Has its love. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The atmosphere breathes rest and comfort, and the many chambers seem full of welcomes. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Buried was the bloody hatchet; Buried was the dreadful war-club; Buried were — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow