Emily Dickinson Quotes
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Faith—is the Pierless Bridge Supporting what We see Unto the Scene that We do not— Too slender for the eye It bears the Soul as bold As it were rocked in Steel With Arms of Steel at either side— It joins—behind the Veil To what, could We presume The Bridge would cease to be To Our far, vacillating Feet A first Necessity.
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Fortune befriends the bold.
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I reason, earth is short, And anguish absolute. And many hurt; But what of that?I reason, we could die: The best vitality Cannot excel decay; But what of that?I reason that in heaven Somehow, it will be even, Some new equation given; But what of that?
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The face we choose to miss, Be it but for a day- As absent as a hundred years When it has rode away.
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If you take care of the small things, the big things take care of themselves. You can gain more control over your life by paying closer attention to the little things.
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I heard a Fly buzz - when I died -The Stillness in the RoomWas like the Stillness in the Air -Between the Heaves of Storm -
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Truth is so rare that it is delightful to tell it.
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Our journey had advanced; Our feet were almost come To that odd fork in Being’s road, Eternity by term.Our pace took sudden awe, Our feet reluctant led. Before were cities, but between, The forest of the dead.Retreat was out of hope,- Behind, a sealed route, Eternity’s white flag before, And God at every gate.
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Success is counted sweetest by those who never succeed.
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I hope you love birds too. It is economical. It saves going to heaven.
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The soul should always stand ajar, ready to welcome the ecstatic experience.
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Memory is a strange Bell—Jubilee, and Knell.
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Prayer is the little implement through which men reach; where presence is denied them.
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The appetite for silence is seldom an acquired taste.
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The possible's slow fuse is lit by the Imagination.
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We never know how high we are till we are called to rise. Then if we are true to form our statures touch the skies.
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What fortitude the Soul contains, That it can so endure The accent of a coming Foot- The opening of a Door.
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Some Days retired from the rest In soft distinction lie, The Day that a companion came- Or was obliged to die.
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Heart, we will forget him! You and I, to-night! You may forget the warmth he gave, I will forget the light.When you have done, pray tell me, That I my thoughts may dim; Haste! lest while you’re lagging, I may remember him!
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If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry.
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If your Nerve, deny you - Go above your Nerve
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The sweets of Pillage can be known To no one but the Thief, Compassion for Integrity Is his divinest Grief.
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My friends are my 'estate.' Forgive me then the avarice to hoard them.
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To Whom the Mornings stand for Nights,What must the Midnights - be!