What did Henry Wadsworth Longfellow mean by: Winter giveth the fields, and the trees so old, their beards of icicles and snow. - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Poet · USA Copy
+ Art is the child of nature in whom we trace the features of the mothers face. Feraz Zeid, January 17, 2024January 17, 2024, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Art, Mom, Mother, 0 - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Poet · USA
+ I love an author the more for having been himself a lover of books. Feraz Zeid, January 17, 2024January 17, 2024, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Book, Lovers, 0 - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Poet · USA
+ The surest pledge of a deathless name Is the silent homage of thoughts unspoken. Feraz Zeid, January 17, 2024January 17, 2024, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Ideas, Silence, 0 - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Poet · USA
+ For next to being a great poet is the power of understanding one. Feraz Zeid, January 17, 2024January 17, 2024, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Poet, 0 - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Poet · USA
+ The great tragedy of the average man is that he goes to his grave with his music still in him. Feraz Zeid, January 17, 2024January 17, 2024, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Average, Regret, 0 - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Poet · USA
+ Being all fashioned of the self-same dust, let us be merciful as well as just Feraz Zeid, January 17, 2024January 17, 2024, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Dust, Fashion, Self, 0 - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Poet · USA
+ Man is unjust, but God is just; and finally justice triumphs. Feraz Zeid, January 17, 2024January 17, 2024, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Justice, Triumph, 0 - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Poet · USA
+ Three silences there are: the first of speech, the second of desire, the third of thought. Feraz Zeid, January 17, 2024January 17, 2024, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Desire, Silence, 0 - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Poet · USA
During a warm winter rain … the basins of her collarbones collected water. - Jeffrey Eugenides Author
Because beautiful things never last. Not roses nor snow… And not fireworks, either - Jennifer Donnelly Author
But where are the snows of last year? That was the greatest concern of Villon, the Parisian poet. - François Rabelais Author · France
No one can look at a pine tree in winter without knowing that spring will come again in due time. - Frank Bolles Author
Winter, a bad guest, sitteth with me at home; blue are my hands with his friendly handshaking Explain - Friedrich Nietzsche Philosopher · Germany
The Snow-drop, Winter’s timid child, Awakes to life, bedew’d with tears. - Mary Robinson Politician · Ireland
