Emily Dickinson Quotes
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The Service without Hope Is tenderest, I think-- ... There is no Diligence like that That knows not an Until
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MY river runs to thee: Blue sea, wilt welcome me? My river waits reply. Oh sea, look graciously! I ’ll fetch thee brooks From spotted nooks,— Say, sea, Take me!
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I have an appetite for silence.
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And then--a Day as huge As Yesterdays in pairs, Unrolled its horror in my face-- Until it blocked my eyes
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Expectation is contentment - Gain satiety.
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I HIDE myself within my flower That wearing on your breast, You, unsuspecting, wear me too - And angels know the rest. I hide myself within my flower, That, fading from your vase, You, unsuspecting, feel for me Almost a loneliness.
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The brain is wider than the sky, For, put them side by side, The one the other will include With ease, and you beside.
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If Aims impel these Astral OnesThe ones allowed to knowKnow that which makes them as forgotAs Dawn forgets them - now
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September's Baccalaureate A combination is Of Crickets - Crows - and Retrospects And a dissembling Breeze That hints without assuming - An Innuendo sear That makes the Heart put up its Fun And turn Philosopher.
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To shut your eyes is to travel.
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A precious, mouldering pleasure 't is To meet an antique book In just the dress his century wore; A privilege, I think, His venerable hand to take, And warming in our own, A passage back, or two, to make To times when he was young. His quaint opinions to inspect, His knowledge to unfold On what concerns our mutual mind, The literature of old.
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The Soul unto itself Is an imperial friend, - Or the most agonizing Spy - An Enemy - could send -
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The poet lights the light and fades away. But the light goes on and on.
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Beauty is just a light switch away...'click!' Beauty is not caused. It is.
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You cannot put a fire out! A thing that can ignite can go itself- without a flame- E'en through the darkest night!
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That love is all there is, Is all we know of love.
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To venerate the simple days Which lead the seasons by, Needs but to remember That from you or I They may take the trifle Termed mortality!
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A letter always seemed to me like immortality because it is the mind alone without corporeal friend.
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By Chivalries as tiny, A Blossom, or a Book, The seeds of smiles are planted- Which Blossom in the dark.
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To see the Summer Sky Is Poetry, though never in a Book it lie— True Poems flee—
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I am going to learn to make bread tomorrow. So if you may imagine me with my sleeves rolled up, mixing flour, milk, saleratus, etc., with a deal of grace. I advise you if you dont know how to make the staff of life to learn with dispatch.
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For each ecstatic instant We must an anguish pay In keen and quivering ratio To the ecstasy.
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I think Heaven will not be as good as earth, unless it bring with it that sweet power to remember, which is the staple of Heaven here.
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I am nobody! Who are you? Are you a nobody, too?