Emily Dickinson, fully Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

Dickinson, fully Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

American Poet

Author Quotes

Forever is composed of nows.

How strange that nature does not knock, and yet does not intrude!

I felt a Funeral, in my Brain, and Mourners to and fro kept treading – treading – till it seemed that Sense was breaking through – And when they all were seated, a Service, like a Drum – kept beating – beating – till I thought my Mind was going numb – 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, As all the Heavens were a Bell, and Being, but an Ear, and I, and Silence, some strange Race wrecked, solitary, here – And then a Plank in Reason, broke, and I dropped down, and down – and hit a World, at every plunge, and Finished knowing – then –

I never saw a moor, I never saw the sea; Yet know I how the heather looks, And what a wave must be. I never spoke with God, Nor visited in Heaven; Yet certain am I of the spot, As if a chart were given.

If you were coming in the fall, I'd brush the summer by, with half a smile and half a spurn,as housewives do a fly. If I could see you in a year,I'd wind the months in balls, and put them each in separate drawers, until their time befalls.

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.

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 miner’s lamp sufficient be to nullify the mine. And in the grave I see thee best—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?

I'll tell you how the sun rose—a ribbon at a time.

Afraid? Of whom am I afraid? Not death; for who is he? The porter of my father’s lodge as much abasheth me. Of life? ‘T were odd I fear a thing that comprehendeth me in one or more existences at Deity’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!

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Dickinson, fully Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
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American Poet