Quotes from Emily Dickinson

Summer-we all have seen- A few of us-believed- A few the more aspiring Unquestionably loves... .

The Soul selects her own Society — Then — shuts the Door — To her divine Majority — Present no more —

If the stillness is Volcanic In the human face When upon a pain Titanic Features keep their place- If at length the smoldering anguish Will not overcome- And the palpitating Vinyard In the dust, be overthrown?

Morir no es casi nada, algo pasado, pero vivir incluye el morir muchas veces sin tener al alivio de estar muerto.

So proud she was to die It made us all ashamed That what we cherished, so unknown To her desire seemed. So satisfied to go Where none of us should be, Immediately, that anguish stooped Almost to jealousy.

Soul, wilt thou toss again? By just such a hazard Hundreds have lost, indeed, But tens have won all. Angels' breathless ballot Lingers to record thee; Imps in eager caucus Raffle for my soul.

Earth is a merry damsel, and heaven a knight so true

One note from one bird is better than a million words...

Lest Love should value less What loss would value more, Had it the stricken privilege --- It cherishes before.

Though it may never come again is what makes it so sweet.

When I hoped I feared, Since I hoped I dared; Everywhere alone As a church remain; Spectre cannot harm, Serpent cannot charm; He deposes doom, Who hath suffered him.

There is nothing more fugal than a book to take you to different lands

This was in the white of the year, That was in the green, Drifts were as difficult then to think As daisies now to be seen. Looking back is best that is left, Or if it be before, Retrospection is prospect's half, Sometimes almost more.

Now, when I read, I read not, For interrupting tears Obliterate the etchings Too costly for repairs.

And so, as kinsmen met a-night, We talked between the rooms, Until the moss had reached our lips, And covered up our names.

Since I have no sweet flower to send you, I enclose my heart; a little one, sunburnt, half broken sometimes, yet close as the spaniel, to it's friends

And if, indeed, I fail, At least to know the worst is sweet. Defeat means nothing but defeat, No drearier can prevail!

and so I sing, as the Boy does by the Burying Ground – because I am afraid –

To pity those that know her not Is helped by the regret That those who know her, know her less The nearer her they get.

I am very busy picking up stems and stamens as the hollyhocks leave their clothes around.

I went to heaven, - 'Twas a small town, Lit with a ruby, Lathed with down. Stiller than the fields At the full dew, Beautiful as pictures No man drew. People like the moth, Of mechlin, frames, Duties of gossamer, And eider names. Almost contented I could be 'Mong such unique Society.

Love not me for comely grace, For my pleasing eye or face; Nor for any outward part, No, nor for my constant heart: For those may fail or turn to ill, So thou and I shall sever. Keep therefore a true woman's eye, And love me still, but know not why; So hast thou the same reason still To doat upon me ever.

Die geliebt werden, können nicht sterben, denn Liebe bedeutet Unsterblichkeit.  

It's a great thing to be great, Loo, and you and I might tug for a life, and never accomplish it, but no one can stop our looking on, and you know some cannot sing, but the orchard is full of birds, and we all can listen. What if we learn, ourselves, some day!