Emily Dickinson, fully Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
I see thee better in the dark, I do not need a light. The love of thee a prism be excelling violet. I see thee better for the years that hunch themselves between, the minerâ€™s lamp sufficient be to nullify the mine. And in the grave I see thee bestâ€”its little panels be a-glow, all ruddy with the light I held so high for thee! What need of day to those whose dark hath so surpassing sun, it seem it be continually at the meridian?
Afraid? Of whom am I afraid? Not death; for who is he? The porter of my fatherâ€™s lodge as much abasheth me. Of life? â€˜T were odd I fear a thing that comprehendeth me in one or more existences at Deityâ€™s decree.
Bring me the sunset in a cup.
Exultation is the going of an inland soul to sea past the houses, past the headlands into deep eternity! Bred as we, among the mountains can the sailor understand the divine intoxication of the first league out from land?
Grant me, O Lord, a sunny mind-Thy windy will to bear!
I argue thee that love is life. And life hath immortality.
I have been bent and broken, but -I hope- into a better shape.
I started early, took my dog, and visited the sea; the mermaids in the basement came out to look at me
I'm a Nobody! Who are you? Are you nobody, too? There's a pair of us- don't tell!
After great pain, a formal feeling comes â€” the Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs â€” the stiff Heart questions was it He, that bore, and Yesterday, or Centuries before? The Feet, mechanical, go round â€” of Ground, or Air, or Ought â€” a Wooden way regardless grown, a Quartz contentment, like a stone â€” This is the Hour of Lead â€”Remembered, if outlived, as Freezing persons, recollect the Snow â€”First â€” Chill â€” then Stupor â€” then the letting go â€”
But a Book is only the Heart's Portrait- every Page a Pulse.
Faith - is the Pierless Bridge Supporting what We see Unto the Scene that We do not.
Harm is one of those things that I always mean to keep clear of, but somehow my intentions and me don't chime as they ought, and people will get hit with stones that I throw at my neighbor's dogs...
I asked no other thing, no other was denied. I offered Being for it; the mighty merchant smiled. Brazil? He twirled a button, without a glance my way: But, madam, is there nothing else
I have no life but this- to lead it here- nor any death - but lest dispelled from there- nor tie to earths to come- nor action new- except through this extent- the realm of you.
I stepped from plank to plank so slow and cautiously; the stars about my head I felt, about my feet the sea. I knew not but the next would be my final inch,â€” this gave me that precarious gait some call experience.
I'm Nobody! Who are you? Are you â€“ Nobody â€“ too? Then there's a pair of us? Don't tell! they'd advertise â€“ you know! How dreary â€“ to be â€“ Somebody! How public â€“ like a Frog â€“ To tell one's name â€“ the livelong June â€“ To an admiring Bog!
After you went, a low wind warbled through the house like a spacious bird, making it high but lonely. When you had gone the love came. I supposed it would. The supper of the heart is when the guest has gone.
Celebrity is the chastisement of merit and the punishment of talent.
Faith is a fine invention when gentlemen can see, but microscopes are prudent in an emergency.
He ate and drank the precious words, his spirit grew robust; he knew no more that he was poor, nor that his frame was dust. He danced along the dingy days, and this bequest of wings was but a book. What liberty a loosened spirit brings!
I believe in possibility.
I have not reached you, but approaches every day yourself you my foot three rivers and even a mountain I must cross. yet a desert, another sea, the trip but I count not, when I stand before you. We proceed easily as snow we stand, the water murmuring softly. rivers, deserts, mountains and sea are traversed by us. Yet death snatches me my price, looking up, he wins.
I tasted life.