Emily Dickinson

“I lost a world the other day. Has anybody found? You'll know it by the rows of stars around it's forehead bound. A rich man might not notice it; yet to my frugal eye of more esteem than ducats. Oh! Find it, sir, for me!”

“The worm doth woo the mortal, death claims a living bride, Night unto day is married, morn unto eventide, Earth a merry damsel, and heaven a knight so true,And Earth is quite coquettish, and beseemeth in vain to sue.”

“I am nobody! Who are you? Are you a nobody, too?”

“It might be lonelierWithout the Loneliness —I'm so accustomed to my Fate —Perhaps the Other — Peace —Would interrupt the Dark —And crowd the little Room —Too scant — by Cubits — to containThe Sacrament — of Him —I am not used to Hope —It might intrude upon —Its sweet parade — blaspheme the place —Ordained to Suffering —It might be easierTo fail — with Land in Sight —Than gain — My Blue Peninsula —To perish — of Delight — F535 (1863) J405”

“Perception of an object costsPrecise the Object's loss—”

“Luck is not chance, it's toil; fortune's expensive smile is earned.”

“There's a certain slant of light,On winter afternoons,That oppresses, like the weightOf cathedral tunes.”

“The bustle in a houseThe morning after deathIs solemnest of industriesEnacted upon earth,--The sweeping up the heart,And putting love awayWe shall not want to use againUntil eternity”

“Since then 'tis centuries, and yet eachFeels shorter than the dayI first surmised the horses' headsWere toward eternity.”

“Dying is a wild night and a new road.”

“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 yearsThat 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?”

“To hope means to be ready at every moment for that which is not yet born, and yet not become desperate if there is no birth in our lifetime.”

“I cannot live with you, It would be life, And life is over there Behind the shelf ”

“They say that “time assuages,”— Time never did assuage; An actual suffering strengthens, As sinews do, with age. Time is a test of trouble, But not a remedy. If such it prove, it prove too There was no malady.”

“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 GuestsWith Banquettings to be-So Spices-stimulate the timeTill 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 KidEnamor-in Prospective-And satisfy-obtained-”

“Mine Enemy is growing old --I have at last Revenge --The Palate of the Hate departs --If any would avenge Let him be quick -- the Viand flits --It is a faded Meat --Anger as soon as fed is dead --'Tis starving makes it fat”

“It was not death, for I stood up,And all the dead lie down;It was not night, for all the bellsPut out their tongues, for noon.It was not frost, for on my fleshI felt siroccos crawl,Nor fire, for just my marble feetCould keep a chancel cool.And yet it tasted like them all;The figures I have seenSet orderly, for burial,Reminded me of mine,As if my life were shavenAnd fitted to a frame,And could not breathe without a key;And I was like midnight, some,When everything that ticked has stopped,And space stares, all around,Or grisly frosts, first autumn morns,Repeal the beating ground.But most like chaos,--stopless, cool,Without a chance or spar,--Or even a report of landTo justify despair.”

“I measure every Grief I meetWith narrow, probing, Eyes;I wonder if It weighs like Mine,Or has an Easier size. I wonder if They bore it long,Or did it just begin?I could not tell the Date of Mine, It feels so old a pain. I wonder if it hurts to live,And if They have to try,And whether, could They choose between, It would not be, to die. I note that Some -- gone patient long --At length, renew their smile.An imitation of a LightThat has so little Oil. I wonder if when Years have piled,Some Thousands -- on the Harm Of early hurt -- if such a lapseCould give them any Balm; Or would they go on aching stillThrough Centuries above,Enlightened to a larger PainBy Contrast with the Love. The Grieved are many, I am told;The reason deeper lies, --Death is but oneand comes but once,And only nails the eyes. There's Grief of Want and Grief of Cold, --A sort they call "Despair";There's Banishment from native Eyes,In sight of Native Air. And though I may not guess the kindCorrectly, yet to meA piercing Comfort it affordsIn passing Calvary, To note the fashions of the Cross,And how they're mostly worn,Still fascinated to presumeThat Some are like My Own.”

“I had been hungry all the years-My noon had come, to dine-I, trembling, drew the table nearAnd touched the curious wine. 'Twas this on tables I had seenWhen turning, hungry, lone,I looked in windows, for the wealthI could not hope to own. I did not know the ample bread,'Twas so unlike the crumbThe birds and I had often sharedIn Nature's diningroom. The plenty hurt me, 'twas so new,--Myself felt ill and odd,As berry of a mountain bushTransplanted to the road. Nor was I hungry; so I foundThat hunger was a wayOf persons outside windows,The entering takes away.”

“Is Bliss then, such Abyss,I must not put my foot amissFor fear I spoil my shoe? I'd rather suit my footThan save my Boot --For yet to buy another Pairis possible,At any store -- But Bliss, is sold just once.The Patent lostNone buy it any more --”

“Experiment escorts us last-His pungent companywill not allow an axiomAn opportunity”

“Faith—is the Pierless BridgeSupporting what We seeUnto the Scene that We do not—Too slender for the eyeIt bears the Soul as boldAs it were rocked in SteelWith Arms of Steel at either side—It joins—behind the VeilTo what, could We presumeThe Bridge would cease to beTo Our far, vacillating FeetA first Necessity.”

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

“I felt it shelter to speak to you.”

“AMPLE make this bed. Make this bed with awe; In it wait till judgment break Excellent and fair. Be its mattress straight, Be its pillow round; Let no sunrise’ yellow noise Interrupt this ground.”

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

“Whenever a thing is done for the first time, it releases a little demon.”

“Fame is a fickle food upon a shifting plate. ”

“I hope you love birds too. It is economical. It saves going to heaven.”

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

“I fear a Man of frugal speech -I fear a Silent Man -Haranguer - I can overtake -Or Babbler - entertain -But He who weigheth - While the Rest -Expend their furthest pound -Of this Man - I am wary -I fear that He is Grand -”

“My friends are my estate.”

“Existence has overpowered Books. Today I slew a Mushroom.”

“I know nothing in the world that has as much power as a word. Sometimes I write one, and I look at it, until it begins to shine.”

“I work to drive the awe away, yet awe impels the work.”

“A soft Sea washed around the HouseA Sea of Summer AirAnd rose and fell the magic PlanksThat sailed without a care —For Captain was the ButterflyFor Helmsman was the BeeAnd an entire universeFor the delighted crew.”

“The lovely flowersembarrass me.They make me regretI am not a bee...”

“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 wingsWas but a book. What libertyA loosened spirit brings!”

“Memory is a strange Bell—Jubilee, and Knell.”

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

“in this short lifethat only lasts ah hourhow much-how little-iswithin our power.”

“Hold dear to your parents for it is a scary and confusing world without them.”

“Till I loved I never lived.”

“I took my Power in my Hand --And went against the World --'Twas not so much as David -- had --But I -- was twice as bold --I aimed by Pebble -- but MyselfWas all the one that fell --Was it Goliath -- was too large --Or was myself -- too small?”

“Much Madness Is Divinest SenseMuch Madness is divinest Sense —To a discerning Eye —Much Sense — the starkest Madness —'Tis the MajorityIn this, as All, prevail —Assent — and you are sane —Demur — you're straightway dangerous —And handled with a Chain —”

“Life is a spell so exquisite that everything conspires to break it.”

“How do most people live without any thought? There are many people in the world,--you must have noticed them in the street,--how do they live? How do they get strength to put on their clothes in the morning?”

“This is the Hour of Lead – Remembered, if outlived, As Freezing persons, recollect the Snow – First – Chill – then Stupor – then the letting go –”

“To see her is a picture—To hear her is a tune—To know her an IntemperanceAs innocent as June—To know her not—Affliction—To own her for a FriendA warmth as near as if the SunWere shining in your Hand.”

“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!”