Emily Dickinson Quotes
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.
Forever is composed of Nows 'Tis not a different time Except for Infiniteness And Latitude of Home
Then, as horizons step, Or noons report away,Without the formula of sound, It passes, and we stay:A quality of loss Affecting our content.
Other Courtesies have been - Other Courtesy may be - We commend ourselves to thee Paragon of Chivalry.
She rose to his requirement, dropped The playthings of her life To take the honorable work Of woman and of wife.
When I state myself, as the representative of the verse, it does not mean me, but a supposed person.
Not if Their Party were waiting, Not if to talk with Me Were to Them now, Homesickness After Eternity.
By Chivalries as tiny, A Blossom, or a Book, The seeds of smiles are planted- Which Blossom in the dark.
You cannot put a fire out! A thing that can ignite can go itself- without a flame- E'en through the darkest night!
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
To possess is past the instant; we achieve the joy, immortality contented, were anomaly.
Remorse is cureless--the Disease Not even God--can heal-- For 'tis His institution--and The Adequate of Hell
The Service without Hope Is tenderest, I think-- ... There is no Diligence like that That knows not an Until
These are the days when birds come back, a very few, a Bird or two, to take a backward look.
Unable are the Loved to die For Love is Immortality, Nay, it is Deity - Unable they that love - to die For Love reforms Vitality Into Divinity.
PRESENTIMENT is that long shadow on the lawn Indicative that suns go down; The notice to the startled grass That darkness is about to pass.
Here is a little forest Whose leaf is ever green; Here is a brighter garden, Where not a frost has been; In its unfading flowers I hear the bright bee hum; Prithee, my brother, Into my garden come!
What Soft--Cherubic Creatures-- These Gentlewomen are-- One would as soon assault a Plush-- Or violate a Star
If fame belonged to me, I could not escape her; if she did not, the longest day would pass me on the chase, and the approbation of my dog would forsake me.
Speech is one symptom of affection; and silence one; the perfect communication is heard of none.
Safe Despair it is that raves- Agony is frugal. Puts itself severe away For its own perusal.
No ladder needs the bird but skies To situate its wings, Nor any leaders grim baton Arraigns it as it sings.
I had a terror-since September -I could tell to none-and so I sing, as the Boy does by the Burying Ground-because I am afraid.
Sweet Skepticism of the Heart That knows and does not know And tosses like a Fleet of Balm Affronted by the snow.
A Deed knocks first at Thought And then - it knocks at Will - That is the manufacturing spot.
That short, potential stir That each can make but once, That bustle so illustrious Tis almost consequence, Is the eclat of death.
The distance that the dead have gone Does not at first appear- Their coming back seems possible For many an ardent year.
Belshazzar had a letter,-- He never had but one; Belshazzar's correspondence Concluded and begun In that immortal copy The conscience of us all Can read without its glasses On revelation's wall.
... And then I heard them lift a box, And creak across my soul With those same boots of lead, again, Then space began to toll.
The Things that never can come back, are several- Childhood-some forms of Hope-the Dead- Though Joys-like Men-may sometimes make a Journey- And still abide-.
When we think of his lone effort to live and its bleak reward, the mind turns to the myth "for His mercy endureth forever," with confiding revulsion.
