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For as nightingales do upon glow-worms feed, So poets live upon the living light.

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
Live
Glow
Worms
Poets
Feed
Poet
Upon
Living
Light
Nightingales

More quotes by Philip James Bailey

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It matters not how long we live but how.
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Write to the mind and heart, and let the ear Glean after what it can.
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The sole equality on earth is death.
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A poet not in love is out at sea He must have a lay-figure.
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The strongest passion which I have is honor.
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When I forget that the stars shine in air-- When I forget that beauty is in stars-- When I forget that love with beauty is-- Will I forget thee: till then all things else.
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The first and worst of all frauds is to cheat one's self.
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Man is one and he hath one great heart. It is thus we feel, with a gigantic throb athwart the sea, each other's rights and wrongs thus are we men.
Philip James Bailey
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We live in deeds, not years in thoughts, not breaths In feelings, not in figures on a dial.
Philip James Bailey
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I cannot be content with less than heaven.
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My favoured temple is an humble heart.
Philip James Bailey
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He who has most of heart knows most of sorrow.
Philip James Bailey
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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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Hell is more bearable than nothingness.
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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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Necessity, like electricity, is in ourselves and all things, and no more without us than within us.
Philip James Bailey
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Music tells no truths.
Philip James Bailey
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And these are joys, like beauty, but skin deep.
Philip James Bailey
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Death, thou art infinite it is life is little.
Philip James Bailey
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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.
Philip James Bailey