Emily Dickinson Quotes

A narrow Fellow in the Grass Occasionally rides

Emily Dickinson

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• Fellow
• Rides

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Quotes to Explore

• Behavior is what a man does, not what he thinks, feels, or believes.

  

  Emily Dickinson

• Saying nothing... sometimes says the most.

  

  Emily Dickinson
  • Saying
  • Meanings

• PHOSPHORESCENCE. Now there's a word to lift your hat to... to find that phosphorescence, that light within, that's the genius behind poetry.

  

  Emily Dickinson
  • Light
  • Poetry
  • Phosphorescence

• Whenever a thing is done for the first time, it releases a little demon.

  

  Emily Dickinson
  • Time
  • Done
  • Demon

• Luck is not chance, it's toil; fortune's expensive smile is earned.

  

  Emily Dickinson
  • Smile
  • Luck

• It is better to be the hammer than the anvil.

  

  Emily Dickinson
  • To Be
  • Hammer
  • Anvil

• It makes no difference abroad, The seasons fit the same, The mornings blossom into noons, And split their pods of flame.Wild-flowers kindle in the woods, The brooks brag all the day; No blackbird bates his jargoning For passing Calvary.Auto-da-fé and judgment Are nothing to the bee; His separation from his rose To him seems misery.

  

  Emily Dickinson
  • Rose
  • Auto
  • Bee

• I felt it shelter to speak to you.

  

  Emily Dickinson
  • Speak
  • Shelter

• If I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain.

  

  Emily Dickinson
  • Live
  • Heart
  • Stop

• One step at a time is all it takes to get you there.

  

  Emily Dickinson
  • Step
  • Step at a Time

• The Heart wants what it wants - or else it does not care.

  

  Emily Dickinson
  • Heart
  • Care
  • Wants

• The Soul selects her own Society - Then - shuts the Door - To her divine Majority - Present no more -

  

  Emily Dickinson
  • Soul
  • Society
  • Present

• There is a solitude of space, A solitude of sea, A solitude of death, but these Society shall be, Compared with that profounder site, That polar privacy, A Soul admitted to Itself: Finite Infinity.

  

  Emily Dickinson
  • Soul
  • Death
  • Society

• No rack can torture me, My soul ’s at liberty. Behind this mortal bone There knits a bolder oneYou cannot prick with saw, Nor rend with scymitar. Two bodies therefore be; Bind one, and one will flee.The eagle of his nest No easier divest And gain the sky, Than mayest thou,Except thyself may be Thine enemy; Captivity is consciousness, So’s liberty.

  

  Emily Dickinson
  • May
  • Soul
  • Enemy

• The lovely flowers embarrass me. They make me regret I am not a bee.

  

  Emily Dickinson
  • Regret
  • Flowers
  • Bee

• The pedigree of honey Does not concern the bee; A clover, any time, to him Is aristocracy.

  

  Emily Dickinson
  • Time
  • Bee

• I never hear the word 'escape' Without a quicker blood, A sudden expectation, A flying attitude.I never hear of prisons broad By soldiers battered down, But I tug childish at my bars,- Only to fail again!

  

  Emily Dickinson
  • Attitude
  • Flying
  • Expectation

• I know nothing in the world that has as much power as a word. Sometimes I write one, and I look at it, until it begins to shine.

  

  Emily Dickinson
  • Nothing
  • Shine
  • I Know

• I think of love, and you, and my heart grows full and warm, and my breath stands still... I can feel a sunshine stealing into my soul and making it all summer, and every thorn, a rose.

  

  Emily Dickinson
  • Heart
  • Love
  • Soul

• A wounded deer leaps the highest.

  

  Emily Dickinson
  • Leap
  • Wounded
  • Deer

• That such have died enables us The tranquiller to die; That such have lived, certificate For immortality.

  

  Emily Dickinson
  • Die

• People need hard times and oppression to develop psychic muscles.

  

  Emily Dickinson
  • People

• Fame is a fickle food Upon a shifting plate, Whose table once a Guest, but not The second time, is set. Whose crumbs the crows inspect, And with ironic caw Flap past it to the Farmer's corn; Men eat of it and die.

  

  Emily Dickinson
  • Die
  • Fame
  • Guest

• I have a brother and sister; my mother does not care for thought, and father, too busy with his briefs to notice what we do. He buys me many books, but begs me not to read them, because he fears they joggle the mind.

  

  Emily Dickinson
  • Mind
  • Mother
  • Father