Emily Dickinson Quotes
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Vinnie rocks her Garden and moans that God won't help her. I suppose he is too busy getting angry with the Wicked every day.
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Afraid? Of whom am I afraid? Not death. For who is he?
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I have an appetite for silence.
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Prayer is the little implement Through which Men reach Where Presence - is denied them. They fling their Speech By means of it - in God's Ear - If then He hear - This sums the Apparatus Comprised in Prayer
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When we say gender is performed, we usually mean that weve taken on a role or were acting in some way and that our acting or our role playing is crucial to the gender that we are and the gender that we present to the world.
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I work to drive the awe away, yet awe impels the work.
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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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Each that we lose takes a part of us; A crescent still abides, Which like the moon, some turbid night, Is summoned by the tides.
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I do not know the man so bold He dare in lonely Place That awful stranger Consciousness Deliberately face-.
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The Things that never can come back, are several - Childhood - some forms of Hope - the Dead.
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I never lost as much but twice, And that was in the sod.
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The Supernatural is only the Natural disclosed.
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You ask of my companions. Hills, sir, and the sundown, and a dog as large as myself.
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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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Hold dear to your parents for it is a scary and confusing world without them.
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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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Safe Despair it is that raves- Agony is frugal. Puts itself severe away For its own perusal.
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How do most people live without any thought? There are many people in the world,--you must have noticed them in the street,--how do they live? How do they get strength to put on their clothes in the morning?
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And you dropt, lost, When something broke-- And let you from a Dream
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Does not Eternity appear dreadful to you. I often get to thinking of it and it seems so dark to me that I almost wish there was no Eternity. To think that we must forever live and never cease to be. It seems as if Death would be a relief to so endless a state of existence.
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It was a quiet way - He asked if I was his - I made no answer of the tongue But answer of the eyes - And then He bore me on Before this mortal noise With swiftness, as of Chariots and distance, as of Wheels. This World did drop away As acres from the feet of one that leaneth from Balloon Upon an Ether Street. The Gulf behind was not, The Continents were new - Eternity was due. No Seasons were to us - It was not Night nor Morn - But Sunrise stopped upon the place And Fastened in Dawn.
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Beauty crowds me till I die. Beauty, mercy have on me! Yet if I expire to-day Let it be in sight of thee!
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I stepped from plank to plank So slow and cautiously; The stars about my head I felt, About my feet the sea. I knew not but the next Would be my final inch,— This gave me that precarious gait Some call experience.
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The heart asks pleasure first, And then, excuse from pain; And then, those little anodynes That deaden suffering; And then, to go to sleep; And then, if it should be The will of its Inquisitor, The liberty to die.