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"As to the pure mind all things are pure, so to the poetic mind all things are poetical."
Mind,
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"Humans have better wings than birds: Human mind is a perfect wing and with this wing we can fly to some farthermost places no bird can ever dream! Yes, mind is a wing; and when it comes to flying man is the most sophisticated bird on earth!"
"You do not have a mind belongs to yourself! Your thoughts are the thoughts of your culture! When you speak, it is not you but your culture, your religion, your traditions, your political or spiritual leaders speak! If not you but your culture, your religion etc. are speaking on behalf of you, then what are you, who are you? A stupid puppet? Get a mind which belongs to yourself! Only then you will be able to speak with your own thoughts on behalf of your own self!"
"A moderate silence ensued. A neutral-to-slightly-positive silence. True, silence is still silence, except when you think about it too much."
"You're wrong. The mind is not like raindrops. It does not fall from the skies, it does not lose itself among other things. If you believe in me at all, then believe this: I promise you I will find it. Everything depends on this." "I believe you," she whispers after a moment. "Please find my mind."
"The mind of the Renaissance was not a pilgrim mind, but a sedentary city mind, like that of the ancients."
Mind,
"Mattie sat at the table, obsessing, orbiting around herself. She was sick of her worried, hostile mind. It would have killed her long before, she felt, if it hadn't needed the transportation."
Explore more quotes by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
"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."
"Sadly as some old mediaeval knightGazed at the arms he could no longer wield,The sword two-handed and the shining shieldSuspended in the hall, and full in sight,While secret longings for the lost delightOf tourney or adventure in the fieldCame over him, and tears but half concealedTrembled and fell upon his beard of white,So I behold these books upon their shelf,My ornaments and arms of other days;Not wholly useless, though no longer used,For they remind me of my other self,Younger and stronger, and the pleasant waysIn which I walked, now clouded and confused."
"A feeling of sadness and longing that is not akin to pain and resembles sorrow only as the mist resembles the rain."
"O, never from the memory of my heartYour dear, paternal image shall depart,Who while on earth, ere yet by death surprised,Taught me how mortals are immortalized;How grateful am I for that patient careAll my life long my language shall declare."
"Like a French poem is life; being only perfect in structure when with the masculine rhymes mingled the feminine are."
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