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A poet not in love is out at sea He must have a lay-figure.
Philip James Bailey
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Philip James Bailey
Age: 86 †
Born: 1816
Born: April 22
Died: 1902
Died: September 6
Author
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P. J. Bailey
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Must
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More quotes by Philip James Bailey
Men might be better if we better deemed of them.
Philip James Bailey
I have a heart with room for every joy .
Philip James Bailey
The dew, 'Tis of the tears which stars weep, sweet with joy.
Philip James Bailey
Grief hallows hearts, even while it ages heads.
Philip James Bailey
He who has most of heart knows most of sorrow.
Philip James Bailey
Naught but God Can satisfy the soul.
Philip James Bailey
Application is the price to be paid for mental acquisition. To have the harvest, we must sow the seed.
Philip James Bailey
Youth might be wise we suffer less from pains than pleasures.
Philip James Bailey
Words are the motes of thought, and nothing more.
Philip James Bailey
Music tells no truths.
Philip James Bailey
The worst men often give the best advice. Our deeds are sometimes better than our thoughts.
Philip James Bailey
It is much less what we do than what we think, which fits us for the future.
Philip James Bailey
Let each man think himself an act of God, His mind a thought, his life a breath of God And let each try, by great thoughts and good deeds, To show the most of Heaven he hath in him.
Philip James Bailey
One thought settles a life, an immortality.
Philip James Bailey
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.
Philip James Bailey
The wind breathes not, and the wave Walks softly as above a grave.
Philip James Bailey
Where doubt there truth is - 'tis her shadow.
Philip James Bailey
Every believer is God's miracle.
Philip James Bailey
There is no surer mark of the absence of the highest moral and intellectual qualities than a cold reception of excellence.
Philip James Bailey
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