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The strongest passion which I have is honor.
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
Strongest
Honor
Passion
More quotes by Philip James Bailey
The value of a thought cannot be told.
Philip James Bailey
Let us think less of men and more of God.
Philip James Bailey
He who has most of heart knows most of sorrow.
Philip James Bailey
Remember that thy heart will shed its pleasures as thine eye its tears, and both leave loathsome furrows.
Philip James Bailey
Words are the motes of thought, and nothing more.
Philip James Bailey
Man is a military animal, glories in gunpowder, and loves parade.
Philip James Bailey
Nature means Necessity.
Philip James Bailey
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.
Philip James Bailey
And these are joys, like beauty, but skin deep.
Philip James Bailey
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.
Philip James Bailey
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.
Philip James Bailey
Blessings star forth forever but a curse is like a cloud, it passes.
Philip James Bailey
Evil then results from imperfection.
Philip James Bailey
Evil is limited. One cannot form A scheme for universal evil.
Philip James Bailey
Walk boldly and wisely.... There is a hand above that will help you on.
Philip James Bailey
Naught but God Can satisfy the soul.
Philip James Bailey
Men might be better if we better deemed of them.
Philip James Bailey
All are of the race of God, and have in themselves good.
Philip James Bailey
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
Death, thou art infinite it is life is little.
Philip James Bailey