Emily Dickinson, fully Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

Emily
Dickinson, fully Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
1830
1886

American Poet

Author Quotes

We dream — it is good we are dreaming — it would hurt us — were we awake —but since it is playing — kill us, and we are playing — shriek — What harm? Men die — externally —it is a truth — of Blood —but we — are dying in Drama —and Drama — is never dead — cautious — We jar each other —and either — open the eyes — lest the Phantasm — prove the Mistake —and the livid Surprise. Cool us to Shafts of Granite —with just an Age — and Name — and perhaps a phrase in Egyptian — it's prudenter — to dream —

You cannot fold a flood and put it in a drawer, because the winds would find it out and tell your cedar floor.

Look back on time with kindly eyes,

My business is circumference.

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.

Tell all the Truth but tell it slant-- Success in Circuit lies too bright for our infirm Delight the Truth's superb surprise as Lightening to the Children eased with explanation kind the Truth must dazzle gradually or every man be blind--

The pedigree of honey does not concern the bee; A clover, any time, to him is aristocracy.

There is no Frigate like a Book to take us Lands away, nor any Coursers like a Page of prancing Poetry – This Traverse may the poorest take without oppress of Toll – how frugal is the Chariot that bears a Human soul.

Till it has loved, no man or woman can become itself.

We journey to the day, and tell each other how we sang to keep the dark away.

You cannot put a fire out! A thing that can ignite can go itself- without a flame- e'en through the darkest night!

Look back on Time, with kindly eyes - He doubtless did his best - How softly sinks that trembling sun in Human Nature's West -

My friends are my "estate." Forgive me then the avarice to hoard them.

Pardon my sanity in a world insane.

That I shall love always, I argue thee that love is life, and life hath immortality.

The poet lights the light and fades away. But the light goes on and on.

There's a certain slant of light, on winter afternoons, that oppresses, like the weight of cathedral tunes.

Tis not that dieing hurts us so- tis living- hurts us more.

We meet no Stranger, but Ourself.

You think my gait 'spasmodic' - I am in danger - Sir - You think me 'uncontrolled' - I have no Tribunal.

Love — is anterior to Life — Posterior — to Death — Initial of Creation, and the Exponent of Earth.

My life closed twice before its close; it yet remains to see if Immortality unveil a third event to me, so huge, so hopeless to conceive, as these that twice befell. Parting is all we know of heaven, and all we need of hell.

Parting is all we know of heaven, and all we need of hell.

That it will never come again is what makes life so sweet.

The possible's slow fuse is lit by the Imagination.

Author Picture
First Name
Emily
Last Name
Dickinson, fully Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
Birth Date
1830
Death Date
1886
Bio

American Poet