Quotes from Emily Dickinson, 1855

The Face we choose to miss, Be it but for a day – As absent as a hundred years When it has rode away.

There is a solitude of space, A solitude of sea, A solitude of death, but these Society shall be, Compared with that profounder site, That polar privacy, A Soul admitted to Itself: Finite Infinity.

Two lengths has every day, Its absolute extend – And area superior By hope or heaven lent. Eternity will be Velocity, or pause, At fundamental signals From fundamental laws.