Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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

Ah, Nothing is too late, till the tired heart shall cease to palpitate.

I do not believe anyone can be perfectly well, who has a brain and a heart

Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad.

The heights by great men reached and kept were not attained in sudden flight but, they while their companions slept, they were toiling upwards in the night.

As Unto the bow the the cord is ,So unto the man is woman;Though she bends him, she obeys him,Though she draws him , yet she follows:Useless each without the other.

Look not mournfully into the past, it comes not back again. Wisely improve the present, it is thine. Go forth to meet the shadowy future without fear and with a manly heart.

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

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 are, to dust thou returnest,Was not spoken of the soul.

We judge ourselves by what we feel capable of doing, while others judge us by what we have already done.