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I don't profess to be profound; but I do lay claim to common sense.
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There is a Zone whose even Years No Solstice interrupt - Whose Sun constructs perpetual Noon Whose perfect Seasons wait - Whose Summer set in Summer, till The Centuries of June And Centuries of August cease And Consciousness - is Noon.
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My best Acquaintances are those With Whom I spoke no Word.
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I argue thee that love is life. And life hath immortality.
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Nature is our eldest mother; she will do no harm.
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A sick room is at times too sacred a place for a friend's knock, timid as that is.
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Knew I how to pray, to intercede for your broken Foot were intuitive - but I am but a Pagan.
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The Brain is just the weight of God-- For--Heft them--Pound for Pound-- And they will differ--if they do-- As Syllable from Sound
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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.
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Not knowing when the dawn will come I open every door.
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I would like more sisters, that the taking out of one, might not leave such stillness.
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How lucious lies the pea within the pod.
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It is finished, is never said of us.
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Not to discover weakness is The Artifice of strength.
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Had we less to say to those we love, perhaps we should say it oftener.
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We trust in plumed procession For such the angels go Rank after rank, with even feet/And uniforms of snow.
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Banish Air from Air Divide Light if you dare
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Pain - has an Element of Blank It cannot recollect When it begun - or if there were a time when it was not - It has no Future - but itself - Its Infinite contain Its Past - enlightened to perceive New Periods - of Pain.
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A Murmur in the Trees - to note - Not loud enough - for Wind - A Star - not far enough to seek - Nor near enough - to find
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We do not play on Graves— Because there isn't Room— Besides—it isn't even—it slants And People come— And put a Flower on it— And hang their faces so— We're fearing that their Hearts will drop— And crush our pretty play— And so we move as far As Enemies—away— Just looking round to see how far It is—Occasionally—
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Dogs are better than human beings because they know but do not tell.
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If I can stop one heart from breaking…” Emily Dickinson If I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain; If I can ease one life the aching, Or cool one pain, Or help one fainting robin Unto his nest again, I shall not live in vain.
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Much madness is divinest sense To a discerning eye; Much sense the starkest madness. ’T is the majority In this, as all, prevails. Assent, and you are sane; Demur,-you ’re straightway dangerous, And handled with a chain.
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Pain has an element of blank.