Emily Dickinson Quotes
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She died--this was the way she died; And when her breath was done, Took up her simple wardrobe And started for the sun. Her little figure at the gate The angels must have spied, Since I could never find her Upon the mortal side.
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I never had a mother. I suppose a mother is one to whom you hurry when you are troubled.
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Who has not found the heaven below Will fail of it above. God’s residence is next to mine, His furniture is love.
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Morning without you is a dwindled dawn.
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I fear a Man of frugal speech - I fear a Silent Man - Haranguer - I can overtake - Or Babbler - entertain - But He who weigheth - While the Rest - Expend their furthest pound - Of this Man - I am wary - I fear that He is Grand -
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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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Not knowing when the dawn will come I open every door.
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You'll find it-when you try to die- The Easier to let go- For recollecting such as went- You could not spare-you know.
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The friend anguish reveals is the slowest forgot.
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Dogs are better than human beings because they know but do not tell.
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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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A little madness in the Spring Is wholesome even for the King, But God be with the Clown, Who ponders this tremendous scene-- This whole experiment in green, As if it were his own!
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He deposes Doom Who hath suffered him.
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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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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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A wounded deer leaps highest, I've heard the hunter tell; 'Tis but the ecstasy of death, And then the brake is still. The smitten rock that gushes, The trampled steel that springs,, A cheek is always redder Just where the hectic stings Mirth is mail of anguish, In which its cautious arm Lest anybody spy the blood And, you're hurt exclaim.
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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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Action is redemption.
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What will the solemn Hemlock- What will the Oak tree say?
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Beauty is not caused, it is; Chase it and it ceases, Chase it not and it abides.
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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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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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To lose ones faith-surpass The loss of an Estate- Because Estates can be Replenished- faith cannot-.
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I had no time to hate, because The grave would hinder me, And life was not so ample I Could finish enmity Nor had I time to love: but since Some industry must be, The little toil of love, I thought, Was large enough for me.