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Man is a military animal, glories in gunpowder, and loves parade.
Philip James Bailey -
Life is as serious a thing as death.
Philip James Bailey
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Ah, nothing comes to us too soon but sorrow.
Philip James Bailey -
Simple ignorance has in its time been complimented by the names of most of the vices, and of all the virtues.
Philip James Bailey -
Where imperfection ceaseth, heaven begins.
Philip James Bailey -
Life is less than nothing without love.
Philip James Bailey -
The truth of truths is love.
Philip James Bailey -
Surely the stars are images of love.
Philip James Bailey
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Art is man's nature; nature is God's art.
Philip James Bailey -
None but God can fill the perfect whole.
Philip James Bailey -
For as nightingales do upon glow-worms feed, So poets live upon the living light.
Philip James Bailey -
And these are joys, like beauty, but skin deep.
Philip James Bailey -
Always say a kind word if you can, if only that it may come in, perhaps, with singular opportuneness, entering some mournful man's darkened room, like a beautiful firefly, whose happy circumvolutions he cannot but watch, forgetting his many troubles.
Philip James Bailey -
For ivy climbs the crumbling hall To decorate decay.
Philip James Bailey
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The sole equality on earth is death.
Philip James Bailey -
Night brings out stars as sorrow shows us truths.
Philip James Bailey -
Prayer is the spirit speaking truth to Truth.
Philip James Bailey -
Evil then results from imperfection.
Philip James Bailey -
Respect is what we owe; love, what we give.
Philip James Bailey -
Corruption springs from light: 'tis one same power Creates, preserves, destroys; matter whereon It works, on e'er self-transmutative form, Common to now the living, now the dead.
Philip James Bailey
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Music tells no truths.
Philip James Bailey -
We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not figures on a dial. We should count time by heart throbs. He most lives who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best.
Philip James Bailey -
See the gold sunshine patching, And streaming and streaking across The gray-green oaks; and catching, By its soft brown beard, the moss.
Philip James Bailey -
Infinite toil would not enable you to sweep away a mist; but by ascending a little, you may often look over it altogether. So it is with our moral improvement: we wrestle fiercely with a vicious habit, which could have no hold upon us if we ascended into a higher moral atmosphere.
Philip James Bailey