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I cannot love as I have loved, And yet I know not why It is the one great woe of life To feel all feeling die.
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
Love
Loved
Life
Feeling
Dies
Feelings
Cannot
Feel
Feels
Great
Woe
More quotes by Philip James Bailey
Evil then results from imperfection.
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As the master so the valet.
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For as nightingales do upon glow-worms feed, So poets live upon the living light.
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Prayer is the spirit speaking truth to Truth.
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True faith nor biddeth nor abideth form, The bended knee, the eye uplift is all Which men need render all which God can bear. What to the faith are forms? A passing speck, A crow upon the sky.
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Life's but a means unto an end, that end, Beginning, mean, and end to all things--God.
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Write to the mind and heart, and let the ear Glean after what it can.
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The goodness of the heart is shown in deeds Of peacefulness and kindness. Hand and heart Are one thing with the good, as thou should'st be. Do my words trouble thee? then treasure them, Pain overgot gives peace, as death doth Heaven. All things that speak of Heaven speak of peace.
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It matters not how long we live but how.
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The truth is perilous never to the true, Nor knowledge to the wise and to the fool, And to the false, error and truth alike, Error is worse than ignorance.
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It is much less what we do than what we think, which fits us for the future.
Philip James Bailey
A poet not in love is out at sea He must have a lay-figure.
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What are ye orbs? The words of God? the Scriptures of the skies?
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Grief hallows hearts, even while it ages heads.
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Where doubt there truth is - 'tis her shadow.
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Words are the motes of thought, and nothing more.
Philip James Bailey
Envy's a coal comes hissing hot from Hell.
Philip James Bailey
The course of Nature seems a course of Death, And nothingness the whole substantial thing.
Philip James Bailey
Remember that thy heart will shed its pleasures as thine eye its tears, and both leave loathsome furrows.
Philip James Bailey
Death, thou art infinite it is life is little.
Philip James Bailey
