Author: Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Cited by

• Elizabeth Norris (2)
  • IN: Unbreakable (2013) Fiction, Young Adult Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: Labor with what zeal we will, Something still remains undone, Something uncompleted still Waits the rising of the sun.
    FROM: "Something Left Undone", (1863), Poem, US
• Ryan Graudin (1)
  • IN: The Walled City (2014) Fiction, Young Adult Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: Darkness settles on roofs and walls, but the sea, the sea in the darkness calls.
    FROM: The Tide Rises, The Tide Falls, (1880), Poem, US
• James Bennett (1)
  • IN: Chasing Embers (2016) Fiction, British
    EPIGRAPH: It is curious to note the old sea-margins of human thought! Each subsiding century reveals some new mystery; we build where monsters used to hide themselves.
    FROM: Kavanagh, (1849), Novel, US
• Lawrence Block (1)
  • IN: The Ehrengraf Nostrum (2012) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: In the world's broad field of battle, In the bivouac of life, be not like dumb, driven cattle! Be a hero in the strife!
    FROM: A Psalm of Life, (1838), Poem, US
• Linda Castillo (1)
  • IN: The Dead Will Tell (2014) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: Let the dead Past bury its dead.
    FROM: A Psalm of Life, (1838), Poem, US
• Leslie Glass (1)
  • IN: Over His Dead Body (2003) Fiction, NULL
    EPIGRAPH: Ah, nothing is too late Till the tired heart shall cease to palpitate. … For age is opportunity no less Than youth itself.
    FROM: Morituri Salutamus, (1875), Poem, US
• Milly Johnson (1)
  • IN: It's Raining Men (2013) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: Into each life some rain must fall.
    FROM: The Rainy Day, (1842), Poem, US
• Michael Zadoorian (1)
  • IN: The Leisure Seeker (2009) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: Which is more fair, The star of morning or the evening star? The sunrise or the sunset of the heart? The hour when we look forth to the unknown, And the advancing day consumes the shadows, Or that when all the landscapes of our lives Lies stretched behind us, and familiar places Gleam in the distance, and sweet memories Rise like a tender haze, and magnify The objects we behold, that soon must vanish?
    FROM: Michael Angelo, (1882), Poem, US
• Susan Vreeland (1)
  • IN: The Forest Lover (2004) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks, Bearded with moss, and in garments green Indistinct in the twilight Stand like Druids of eld, With voices sad and prophetic.
    FROM: Evangeline, (1847), Poem, US/England
• Kathy Reichs (1)
  • IN: Bones to Ashes (2007) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: This is the forest primeval; but where are the hearts that beneath it Leaped like the roe, when he hears in the woodland the voice of the huntsman? Where is the thatch-roofed village, the home of Acadian farmers.
    FROM: Evangeline, (1847), Poem, UK
• Lee Martin (1)
  • IN: Late One Night (2016) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: Silently, one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven, Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels.
    FROM: Evangeline, A Tale of Acadie, (1847), Poem, US
• Hester Young (1)
  • IN: The Gates of Evangeline (2015) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: But Evangeline's heart was sustained by a vision, that faintly floated before her eyes, and beckoned her on through the moonlight. It was the thought of her brain that assumed the shape of a phantom. Through those shadowy aisles had Gabriel wandered before her, and every stroke of the oar now brought him nearer and nearer.
    FROM: Evangeline: A Tale of Acadic, (1847), NULL, US
• Rosie Garland (1)
  • IN: The Night Brother (2017) Fiction, British
    EPIGRAPH: All things must change to something new, to something strange.
    FROM: Kéramos, (1878), Poem, US
• Jodi Picoult (1)
  • IN: Vanishing Acts (2005) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: The leaves of memory seemed to make A mournful rustling in the dark.
    FROM: The Fire of Drift-wood, (1850), Poem, US
• Alexander McLachlan (1)
  • IN: The Poetical Works of Alexander McLachlan (1900) Poetry, NULL
    EPIGRAPH: Read from some humbler poet, Whose songs gushed from his heart, As showers from the clouds of summer, Or tears from the eyelids start; Who, thro' long days of labor, And nights devoid of ease, Still heard in his soul the music Of wonderful melodies.
    FROM: The Day is Done, (1844), Poem, US
• Rudyard Kipling (1)
  • IN: Captains Courageous (1897) Fiction, NULL
    EPIGRAPH: I ploughed the land with horses, But my heart was ill at ease, For the old sea-faring men Came to me now and then, With their sagas of the seas.
    FROM: "The Discoverer of the North Cape", (None), Poem, NULL
• Marie Corelli (1)
  • IN: Life Everlasting (1911) Fiction, British
    EPIGRAPH: There is no Death, What seems so is transition.
    FROM: Resignation, (1850), Poem, US