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Death, thou art infinite it is life is little.

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
Infinite
Death
Art
Littles
Little
Life
Thou

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America, thou half-brother of the world with something good and bad of every land.
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It matters not how long we live but how.
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Men might be better if we better deemed of them.
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Man is a military animal, glories in gunpowder, and loves parade.
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Every believer is God's miracle.
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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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Blessings star forth forever but a curse is like a cloud, it passes.
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Remember that thy heart will shed its pleasures as thine eye its tears, and both leave loathsome furrows.
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Any heart turned Godward feels more joyIn one short hour of prayer, than e'er was raisedBy all the feasts of earth since its foundation.
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Music tells no truths.
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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.
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Life is as serious a thing as death.
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As the master so the valet.
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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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Application is the price to be paid for mental acquisition. To have the harvest, we must sow the seed.
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Youth might be wise we suffer less from pains than pleasures.
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It is much less what we do than what we think, which fits us for the future.
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Envy's a coal comes hissing hot from Hell.
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The wind breathes not, and the wave Walks softly as above a grave.
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Stars which stand as thick as dewdrops on the field of heaven.
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