Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Quotes About Sad
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Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad.
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O little feet! that such long years Must wander on through hopes and fears, Must ache and bleed beneath your load; I, nearer to the wayside inn Where toil shall cease and rest begin, Am weary, thinking of your road!
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Take them, O Death! and bear away Whatever thou canst call thine own! Thine image, stamped upon this clay, Doth give thee that, but that alone!
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There's nothing in this world so sweet as love. And next to love the sweetest thing is hate.
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The life of woman is full of woe, Toiling on and on and on, With breaking heart, and tearful eyes, The secret longings that arise, Which this world never satisfies! Some more, some less, but of the whole Not one quite happy, no, not one!
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Every man has his secret sorrows.
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Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing, only a signal shown, and a distant voice in the darkness; So on the ocean of life, we pass and speak one another, only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence.
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