1830-1886, American Poet
'Tis so much joy! 'Tis so much joy! If I should fail, what poverty! And yet, as poor as I Have ventured all upon a throw; Have gained! Yes! Hesitated so this side the victory!
Emily Dickinson – [Joy]
A word is dead when it is said. Some say. I say it just, begins to live that day.
Emily Dickinson – [Words]
A wounded deer leaps the highest.
Emily Dickinson – [Adversity]
After great pain, a formal feeling comes. The Nerves sit ceremonious, like tombs.
Emily Dickinson – [Pain]
Anger as soon as fed is dead; 'Tis starving makes it fat.
Emily Dickinson – [Anger]
Assent — and you are sane — , demur — you're straightway dangerous — , and handled with a Chain — .
Emily Dickinson – [Dissent]
Beauty is not caused. It is.
Emily Dickinson – [Beauty]
Because I could not stop for death, He kindly stopped for me; The carriage held but just ourselves and immortality.
Emily Dickinson – [Death and Dying]
Death is a Dialogue between, the Spirit and the Dust.
Emily Dickinson – [Death and Dying]
Drab Habitation of Whom? Tabernacle or Tomb — or Dome of Worm — or Porch of Gnome — or some Elf's Catacomb?
Emily Dickinson – [Home]
Dying is a wild night and a new road.
Emily Dickinson – [Death and Dying]
Faith is a fine invention when Gentleman can see — but microscopes are prudent in an emergency
Emily Dickinson – [Science and Scientists]
Fame is a fickle food upon a shifting plate.
Emily Dickinson – [Fame]
Finite to fail, but infinite to venture.
Emily Dickinson – [Boldness]
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.
Emily Dickinson – [Books and Reading]
Heaven is so far of the mind that were the mind dissolved — the site of it by architect could not again be proved.
Emily Dickinson – [Heaven]
His Labor is a Chant — his Idleness — a Tune — oh, for a Bee's experience of Clovers, and of Noon!
Emily Dickinson – [Insects]
His mind of man, a secret makes I meet him with a start he carries a circumference in which I have no part.
Emily Dickinson – [Secrets]
Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul — and sings the tunes without the words — and never stops at all.
Emily Dickinson – [Hope]
I argue thee that love is life. And life hath immortality.
Emily Dickinson – [Love]