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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.
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
Sorrow
Bearer
Single
Crushes
Two
Crush
Able
Stone
Ease
Carry
Stones
Ground
More quotes by 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.
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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.
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Grief hallows hearts, even while it ages heads.
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The first and worst of all frauds is to cheat one's self.
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The sole equality on earth is death.
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America, thou half-brother of the world with something good and bad of every land.
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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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Envy's a coal comes hissing hot from Hell.
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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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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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Every believer is God's miracle.
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Write to the mind and heart, and let the ear Glean after what it can.
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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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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.
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Evil then results from imperfection.
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Imagination is the air of mind.
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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.
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Man is a military animal, glories in gunpowder, and loves parade.
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He who has most of heart knows most of sorrow.
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Fine thoughts are wealth, for the right use of which Men are and ought to be accountable,-- If not to Thee, to those they influence.
Philip James Bailey