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
There are things of which I may not speak; There are dreams that cannot die; There are thoughts that make the strong heart weak, And bring a pallor into the cheek, And a mist before the eye.
Interpretation
This quote reflects on the power of unspoken thoughts and the emotional weight of dreams and internal struggles.
Longfellow’s quote delves into the complexities of human emotions and experiences that often go unexpressed. It suggests that there are profound thoughts and dreams that linger within us, shaping our lives and feelings, even if they remain unarticulated. These thoughts can evoke deep vulnerability, revealing the fragility of strength and the heavy toll that unfulfilled dreams can take on the spirit.
In practice
During a literary discussion about unexpressed emotions, this quote can highlight the underlying themes in a character's journey.
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!
There 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.
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.
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.
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.
In the long run men hit only what they aim at.
When religion speaks only in the name of authority rather than with the voice of compassion, its message becomes meaningless.
The mystic cords of memory, stretching from every battlefield and patriot grave to every living heart and hearthstone, all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when again touched, as surely they will be, by the angels of our nature.
An artist has an obligation to tell the truth. [...] that the true horrors of human history derive not from orcs and Dark Lords, but from ourselves. We are the monsters. (And the heroes too). Each of us has within himself the capacity for great good, and great evil.
I was struck by an awful thought, the kind that cannot be taken back once it escapes into the open air of consciousness; it seemed to me that this was not a place you go to live. It was a place you go to die.
We have grasped the mystery of the atom and rejected the sermon on the mount.
Respect for life and for the dignity of the human person also extends to the rest of creation, which is called to join man in praising God.
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