Emily Dickinson Quotes
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That short, potential stir That each can make but once, That bustle so illustrious Tis almost consequence, Is the eclat of death.
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The mountain at a given distance In amber lies; Approached, the amber flits a little,-- And that's the skies!
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Portrait The world spreads out on either side no farther than the heart is wide.
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Forever - is composed of Nows - 'Tis not a different time... Let Months dissolve in further Months - And Years - exhale in Years.
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You are nipping in the bud fancies which I let blossom. The shore is safer, but I love to buffet the sea - I can count the bitter wrecks here in these pleasant waters, and hear the murmuring winds, but oh, I love the danger!
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Answer July- Where is the Bee- Where is the Blush- Where is the Hay? Ah, said July- Where is the Seed- Where is the Bud- Where is the May- Answer Thee-Me-
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But a Book is only the Heart's Portrait- every Page a Pulse.
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I had no portrait, now, but am small, like the wren; and my hair is bold, like the chestnut bur; and my eyes, like the sherry in the glass, that the guest leaves.
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Which Anguish was the utterest--then-- To perish, or to live?
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There is a pain so utter, it swallows being up; The covers the abyss with a trance So memory can step around, across, upon it.
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I took one Draught of Life -I'll tell you what I paid -Precisely an existence -The market price, they said.
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My Life had stood - a Loaded Gun -In Corners - till a DayThe Owner passed - identified -And carried Me away -And now We roam in Sovereign Woods -And now We hunt the Doe -And every time I speak for Him -The Mountains straight reply -
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If I shouldn't be alive When the Robins come, Give the one in Red Cravat, A Memorial crumb.
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Not 'Revelation'-'tis that waits/ But our unfurnished eyes.
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Fame is a bee It has a song - It has a sting - Ah, too, it has a wing.
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The Truth must dazzle gradually or every man be blind.
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Publication - is the auction of the mind.
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Open your life wide, and take me in forever. I will never be tired-I will never be noisy when you want to be still...nobody else will see me, but you-but that is enough-I shall not want any more.
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The older I grow the more do I love spring and spring flowers. Is it so with you?
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The Spirit lurks within the Flesh Like Tides within the Sea That make the Water live, estranged What would the Either be?
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When we think of his lone effort to live and its bleak reward, the mind turns to the myth "for His mercy endureth forever," with confiding revulsion.
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To die before one fears to die may be a boon.
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She rose to his requirement, dropped The playthings of her life To take the honorable work Of woman and of wife.
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That no Flake of snow fall on you or them - is a wish that would be a Prayer, were Emily not a Pagan.