546 Quotes by James Russell Lowell

Literature, properly so called, draws its sap from the deep soil of human nature’s common and everlasting sympathies, the gathered leaf-mound of countless generations, and not from any top dressing capriciously scattered over the surface.

The fireflies o’er the meadow In pulses come and go.

The victory’s in believing.

Children are God’s Apostles, sent forth, day by day, to preach of love, and hope, and peace.

They enslave their children’s children who make compromise with sin.

Here was a type of the true elder race, And one of Plutarch’s men talked with us face to face.

And the choice goes by forever ’twixt that darkness and that light.

I love her with a love as still As a broad river’s peaceful might, Which by high tower and lowly mill, Goes wandering at its own will, And yet does ever flow aright.

The rich man’s sons inherits cares; The bank may break, the factory burn, A breath may burst his bubble shares, And soft, white hands could hardly earn A living that would serve his turn.