A Quote by Philip James Bailey

For as nightingales do upon glow-worms feed, So poets live upon the living light. — © Philip James Bailey
For as nightingales do upon glow-worms feed, So poets live upon the living light.
The taste for books was an early one. As a child he was sometimes found at midnight by a page still reading. They took his taper away, and he bred glow-worms to serve his purpose. They took the glow-worms away and he almost burnt the house down with a tinder.
Some feelings are quite untranslatable; no language has yet been found for them. They gleam upon us beautifully through the dim twilight of fancy, and yet when we bring them close to us, and hold them up to the light of reason, lose their beauty all at once, as glow worms which gleam with such a spiritual light in the shadows of evening, when brought in where the candles are lighted, are found to be only worms like so many others.
Glories, like glow-worms, afar off shine bright, But looked to near, have neither heat nor light.
Light, Life and Love are like three glow-worms at thy feet: the whole universe of stars, the dewdrops on the grass whereon thou walkest!
Chameleons feed on light and air: Poets food is love and fame.
We are all worms. But I believe that I am a glow-worm.
We are all worms. However, I like to think I'm a glow worm
We are kindred all of us, killer and victim, predator and prey, me and the sly coyote, the soaring buzzard, the elegant gopher snake, and trembling cottontail, the foul worms that feed on our entrails; all of them, all of us. Long live diversity, long live the earth!
Glow-worms on the ground are moving, As if in the torch-dance circling.
For, as you know, religions are like glow-worms; they shine only when it is dark.
From space, astronauts can see people making love as a tiny speck of light. Not light, exactly, but a glow that could be confused for light - a coital radiance that takes generations to pour like honey through the darkness to the astronaut's eyes. In about one and a half centuries - after the lovers who made the glow will have long since been laid permanently on their backs - the metropolitan cities will be seen from space. They will glow all year. Smaller cities will also be seen, but with great difficulty. Towns will be virtually impossible to spot. Individual couples invisible.
The eastern light our spires touch at morning, The light that slants upon our western doors at evening, The twilight over stagnant pools at batflight, Moon light and star light, owl and moth light, Glow-worm glowlight on a grassblade. O Light Invisible, we worship Thee!
In the world of poetry there are would-be poets, workshop poets, promising poets, lovesick poets, university poets, and a few real poets.
I needed more stuff that glowed so when the lights went out, you could actually see me the whole time. So I slowly built it from there. I wanted everything to glow. I want my hair to glow, I want my nails to glow, I want my eyes to glow, I want my lips to glow, you know?
What sex is, we don't know, but it must be some sort of fire. For it always communicates a sense of warmth, of glow. And when this glow becomes a pure shine, then we feel the sense of beauty. We all have the fire of sex slumbering or burning inside us. If we live to be ninety, it is still there. Or, if it dies, we become one of those ghastly living corpses which are unfortunately becoming more numerous in the world.
In living off all the reflecting light furnished by poets, the I which dreams the reverie reveals itself not as poet but as poetizing I.
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