Maxioms by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Thy fate is the common fate of all; Into each life some rain must fall.
Thy fate is the common fate of all; Into each life some rain must fall.
He spake well who said that graves are the footprints of angels.
He spake well who said that graves are the footprints of angels.
The counterfeit and counterpart of Nature is reproduced in art.
The counterfeit and counterpart of Nature is reproduced in art.
For age is opportunity no less than youth itself, though in another dress, and as the evening twilight fades away, read more
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.
Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
and read more
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.
