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

For after all, the best thing one can do when it is raining is let it rain.

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

For age is opportunity no less Than youth itself, though in another dress, And as the evening twilight fades away The sky is filled with stars, invisible by day.

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Give what you have. To someone else it may be better than you dare to think.

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

God sent his Singers upon earth With songs of sadness and of mirth That they might touch the hearts of men And bring them back to heaven again.

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Go forth to meet the shadowy Future without fear and with a manly heart.

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Great is the art of beginning but greater is the art of ending.

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

He spake well who said that graves are the footprints of angels.

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

His imagination seemed still to exhaust itself in running, before it tried to leap the ditch. While he mused, the fire burned in other brains. Other hands wrote the books he dreamed about. He freely used his good ideas in conversation, and in letters; and they were straightway wrought into the texture of other men's books, and so lost to him forever.

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Hope has as many lives as a cat or a king.

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow