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 love of learning, the sequestered nooks,And all the sweet serenity of books

    Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
  • For after all, the best thing one can do when it is raining is let it rain

    Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
  • Silently, one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven,Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels

    Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
  • Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;Thy fate is the common fate of all,Into each life some rain must fall

    Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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