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Envy's a coal comes hissing hot from Hell.

Philip James Bailey

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Philip James Bailey
Age: 86 †
Born: 1816
Born: April 22
Died: 1902
Died: September 6
Author
Poet
Writer
P. J. Bailey
Coal
Hot
Envy
Hell
Comes
Hissing
Envious

More quotes by Philip James Bailey

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The dew, 'Tis of the tears which stars weep, sweet with joy.
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The poet's pen is the true divining rod Which trembles towards the inner founts of feeling Bringing to light and use, else hid from all, The many sweet clear sources which we have of good and beauty in our own deep bosoms And marks the variations of all mind As does the needle.
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The wind breathes not, and the wave Walks softly as above a grave.
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Dreams are rudiments Of the great state to come. We dream what is About to happen.
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There is no surer mark of the absence of the highest moral and intellectual qualities than a cold reception of excellence.
Philip James Bailey
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Fine thoughts are wealth, for the right use of which Men are and ought to be accountable,-- If not to Thee, to those they influence.
Philip James Bailey
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I have a heart with room for every joy .
Philip James Bailey
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My favoured temple is an humble heart.
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None but God can fill the perfect whole.
Philip James Bailey
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Hell is more bearable than nothingness.
Philip James Bailey
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Youth might be wise we suffer less from pains than pleasures.
Philip James Bailey
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The value of a thought cannot be told.
Philip James Bailey
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As the master so the valet.
Philip James Bailey
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Poetry is itself a thing of God He made his prophets poets and the more We feel of poesie do we become Like God in love and power,-under-makers.
Philip James Bailey
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The course of Nature seems a course of Death, And nothingness the whole substantial thing.
Philip James Bailey
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Night comes, world-jewelled, . . . The stars rush forth in myriads as to wage War with the lines of Darkness and the moon, Pale ghost of Night, comes haunting the cold earth After the sun's red sea-death--quietless.
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Sorrow is a stone that crushes a single bearer to the ground, while two are able to carry it with ease.
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Evil then results from imperfection.
Philip James Bailey
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Dear Lord, our God and Saviour! for Thy gifts The world were poor in thanks, though every soul Were to do nought but breathe them, every blade Of grass, and every atomie of earth To utter it like dew.
Philip James Bailey
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Mind and night will meet, though in silence, like forbidden lovers.
Philip James Bailey