Emily Dickinson Quotes
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Nature is what we see, The Hill, the Afternoon- Squirrel, Eclipse, the Bumble-bee, Nay-Nature is Heaven.Nature is what we hear, The Bobolink, the Sea- Thunder, the Cricket- Nay,-Nature is Harmony.Nature is what we know But have no art to say, So impotent our wisdom is To Her simplicity.
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Morning without you is a dwindled dawn.
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It is essential to the sanity of mankind that each one should think the other crazy - a condition with which the cynicism of human nature so cordially complies, one could wish it were a concurrence upon a subject more noble.
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The only Commandment I ever obeyed — 'Consider the Lilies.
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Drab Habitation of Whom? Tabernacle or Tomb - or Dome of Worm - or Porch of Gnome - or some Elf's Catacomb?
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One need not be a Chamber - to be Haunted - One need not be a House - The Brain - has Corridors - surpassing Material Place - Far safer, of a Midnight - meeting External Ghost - Than an Interior - Confronting - That cooler - Host. Far safer, through an Abbey - gallop - The Stones a'chase - Than Moonless - One's A'self encounter - In lonesome place - Ourself - behind ourself - Concealed - Should startle - most.
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Because I could not stop for Death, He kindly stopped for me; The carriage held but just ourselves And Immortality. We slowly drove, he knew no haste, And I had put away My labour, and my leisure too, For his civility. We passed the school where children played, Their lessons scarcely done; We passed the fields of gazing grain, We passed the setting sun. We paused before a house that seemed A swelling of the ground; The roof was scarcely visible, The cornice but a mound. Since then 'tis centuries; but each Feels shorter than the day I first surmised the horses' heads Were toward eternity.
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Action is redemption.
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I had been hungry all the years- My noon had come, to dine- I, trembling, drew the table near And touched the curious wine. 'Twas this on tables I had seen When turning, hungry, lone, I looked in windows, for the wealth I could not hope to own. I did not know the ample bread, 'Twas so unlike the crumb The birds and I had often shared In Nature's diningroom. The plenty hurt me, 'twas so new,-- Myself felt ill and odd, As berry of a mountain bush Transplanted to the road. Nor was I hungry; so I found That hunger was a way Of persons outside windows, The entering takes away.
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Take all away from me, but leave me Ecstasy, And I am richer then than all my Fellow Men-.
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Life is the finest secret. So long as that remains, we must all whisper.
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A charm invests a face Imperfectly beheld,— The lady dare not lift her veil For fear it be dispelled. But peers beyond her mesh, And wishes, and denies,— Lest interview annul a want That image satisfies.
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To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee, One clover, and a bee, And revery. The revery alone will do, If bees are few.
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I do not like the man who squanders life for fame; give me the man who living makes a name.
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Some keep the Sabbath going to Church -I keep it, staying at Home-With a Bobolink for a Chorister -And an Orchard, for a Dome-
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I miss the grasshoppers much, but suppose it is all for the best. I should become too much attached to a trotting world.
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There is no Frigate like a book to take us lands away nor any coursers like a page of prancing Poetry.
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We meet no Stranger, but Ourself.
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After great pain, a formal feeling comes. The Nerves sit ceremonious, like tombs.
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Wild Nights – Wild Nights! Were I with thee Wild Nights should be Our luxury! Futile – the winds – To a heart in port – Done with the compass – Done with the chart! Rowing in Eden – Ah, the sea! Might I moor – Tonight – In thee!
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You cannot fold a flood and put it in a drawer, because the winds would find it out and tell your cedar floor.
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Why should we censure Othello when the Criterion Lover says, "Thou shalt have no other Gods before Me"?
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I had no monarch in my life, and cannot rule myself; and when I try to organize, my little force explodes and leaves me bare and charred.
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Renunciation-is a piercing Virtue-The letting go A Presence-for an Expectation-.