O suffering, sad humanity! O ye afflicted ones, who lie Steeped to the lips in misery, Longing, yet afraid to die, Patient, though sorely tried!
Henry Wadsworth LongfellowRead
Something the heart must have to cherish, Must love and joy and sorrow learn; Something with passion clasp, or perish And in itself to ashes burn.
Interpretation
What this quote means
This quote emphasizes the necessity of love, joy, and sorrow in creating a meaningful life.
Longfellow's quote reflects the idea that to truly experience life, one must embrace a range of emotions, including love, joy, and sorrow. It suggests that these feelings are essential for personal growth and fulfillment, as they allow us to cherish our experiences. Without passionate emotions, life risks becoming empty, leading to a metaphorical 'burning to ashes' of our experiences.
Themes
LoveEmotionPassionSorrowJoyLife
In practice
Example use cases
During a wedding speech to emphasize the importance of love in a marriage.
More from Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
All quotes βThere are moments in life, when the heart is so full of emotion That if by chance it be shaken, or into its depths like a pebble Drops some careless word, it overflows, and its secret, Spilt on the ground like water, can never be gathered together.
Henry Wadsworth LongfellowRead
Perseverance is a great element of success. If you only knock long enough and loud enough at the gate, you are sure to wake up somebody.
Henry Wadsworth LongfellowRead
To be seventy years old is like climbing the Alps. You reach a snow-crowned summit, and see behind you the deep valley stretching miles and miles away, and before you other summits higher and whiter, which you may have strength to climb, or may not. Then you sit down and meditate and wonder which it will be.
Henry Wadsworth LongfellowRead
God is not dead; nor doth He sleep; ... _x000D_ The wrong shall fail,_x000D_ The right prevail,_x000D_ With peace on earth, good will to men.
Henry Wadsworth LongfellowRead
In the long run men hit only what they aim at.
Henry Wadsworth LongfellowRead
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Am I in love? --yes, since I am waiting. The other one never waits. Sometimes I want to play the part of the one who doesn't wait; I try to busy myself elsewhere, to arrive late; but I always lose at this game. Whatever I do, I find myself there, with nothing to do, punctual, even ahead of time. The lover's fatal identity is precisely this: I am the one who waits.
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There, he had seen every thing to exalt in his estimation the woman he had lost, and there begun to deplore the pride, the folly, the madness of resentment, which had kept him from trying to regain her when thrown in his way.
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She offered her mouth to him, as if enchanted. A Persian princess, a little Indian, a fox, a morning glory, a lovely wisteria--it always pleased them when you told them they looked like something, like something else.
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