Emily Dickinson, fully Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

Emily
Dickinson, fully Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
1830
1886

American Poet

Author Quotes

Unable are the loved to die. For love is immortality.

Whose fingers string the stalactite- who counts the Wampum of the night.

Lad of Athens, faithful be to thyself, and Mystery - all the rest is Perjury.

Morning without you is a dwindled dawn.

Old age comes on suddenly, and not gradually as is thought.

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.

The heroism we recite would be a daily thing, did not ourselves the cubits warp for fear to be a king.

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.

Those who are beloved cannot die, because love means immortality.

Unto my Books-so good to turn-Far ends of tired Days-It half endears the Abstinence-And Pain-is missed-in Praise-As Flavors-cheer Retarded Guests with Banquettings to be-so Spices-stimulate the time till my small Library-It may be Wilderness-without-Far feet of failing Men-But Holiday-excludes the night-And it is Bells-within-I thank these Kinsmen of the Shelf-Their Countenances Kid Enamor-in Prospective-And satisfy-obtained-

Witchcraft was hung, in History, but History and I find all the Witchcraft that we need around us, every Day.

A Word that Breathes Distinctly

Behind Me — dips Eternity — Before Me — Immortality — Myself — the Term between —

Expectation is contentment - Gain satiety.

Forgive me if I never visit. I am from the fields, you know, and while quite at home with the dandelions, make a sorry figure in a drawing room.

Hunger is a way of standing outside windows the entering takes away.

I felt it shelter to speak to you.

I see thee better in the dark, I do not need a light.

I'll tell you how the sun rose, a ribbon at a time. The steeples swam in amethyst, the news like squirrels ran. The hills untied their bonnets, the bobolinks begun. Then I said softly to myself, That must have been the sun!

A wounded dear leaps the highest.

Bless God, he went as soldiers, his musket on his breast— grant God, he charge the bravest of all the martial blest! Please God, might I behold him in epauletted white—I should not fear the foe then—I should not fear the fight!

Experiment escorts us last- his pungent company will not allow an axiom an opportunity.

Fortune befriends the bold.

I am out with lanterns, looking for myself.

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 dining room. 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.

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

American Poet