Over 40,000 Famous Quotes Sorted By Topic and Author

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

It takes less time to do a thing right than to explain why you did it wrong. Ralph Nichols -Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

A single conversation across the table with a wise man is better than ten years' study of books.

Write on your doors the saying wise and old, "Be bold! be bold!" and everywhere--"Be bold; Be not too bold!" Yet better the excess That the defect; better the more than less; Better like Hector in the field to die, Than like a perfumed Paris turn and fly.

Intelligence and courtesy not always are combined;Often in a wooden house a golden room we find.

The strength of criticism lies in the weakness of the thing criticized.

Even the blackest of them all, the crow, Renders good service as your man-at-arms, Crushing the beetle in his coat of mail, And crying havoc on the slug and snail. - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow,

An angel with a trumpet said, "Forever more, forever more, The reign of violence is o'er!"

Spake full well, in language quaint and olden, One who dwelleth by the castled Rhine, When he call'd the flowers, so blue and golden, Stars that on earth's firmament do shine.

Merrily, merrily whirled the wheels of the dizzying dances Under the orchard-trees and down the path to the meadows; Old fold and young together, and children mingled among them.

Darkness of slumber and death, forever sinking and sinking.

Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! For the soul is dead that slumbers, and things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art; to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.

It is Lucifer, The son of mystery; And since God suffers him to be, He, too, is God's minister, And labors for some good By us not understood.

Tell your master that if there were as many devils at Worms as tiles on its roofs, I would enter.

Every dew-drop and rain-drop had a whole heaven within it.

Into each life some rain must fall, some days be dark and dreary.

One half the world must sweat and groan that the other half may dream.

'Twas Easter-Sunday. The full-blossomed trees Filled all the air with fragrance and with joy.

Your supper is like the Hidalgo's dinner; very little meat, and a great deal of tablecloth.

Multitudinous echoes awoke and died in the distance. . . . . And, when the echoes had ceased, like a sense of pain was the silence.