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"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."
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"'Tis the last rose of summer Left blooming alone; All her lovely companions Are faded and gone."
"If I never see you again I will always carry youinsideoutsideon my fingertipsand at brain edgesand in centerscentersof what I am ofwhat remains."
"Nothing's ever gone. We fool ourselves that things fade, but they never do."
"To forget is to blithely toss aside the hard lessons that were hard won by others before us, thereby needlessly dooming us to endure the hard lessons that are likely to be forgotten by those who will follow us. And it is altogether reasonable that in order to avoid this repetitive trouncing, God graciously granted us memories."
"What exactly did you find in Atlanta?Frank unzipped his backpack and started bringing out souvenirs. "Some peach preserves. A couple of T-shirts. A snow globe. And, um, these not-really-Chinese handcuffs.Annabeth forced herself to stay calm. "How about you start from the top-of the story, not the backpack."
"Memory is a few lines snipped from a larger story that we are privileged to tuck away between the pages of our minds."
"He would have liked to know that somebody wanted to keep him alive, that someone remembered him. He used to say that we exist as long as somebody remembers us."
"Sometimes I accidentally walk into the places where I and you had spoken before, existed before, which still have the smell ofyour memories, all of a sudden it starts feeling like I have entered a dark room without a door anywhere. Where I can always hear that song I used to love once before."
Explore more quotes by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
"Men of genius are often dull and inert in society; as the blazing meteor, when it descends to earth, is only a stone."
"Each morning sees some task begun, each evening sees it close; Something attempted, something done, has earned a night's repose."
"Intelligence and courtesy not always are combined; Often in a wooden house a golden room we find."
"All that is best in the great poets of all countries is not what is national in them but what is universal."
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