Quotes from Emily Dickinson

The stars are not hereditary

chubby daffodil.

How happy is the little Stone That rambles in the Road alone, And doesn't care about Careers And Exigencies never fears

Il troppo mi urta - è così insolito. Mi sentivo a disagio, spaesata - come una bacca di fratta montana trapiantata sulla strada. E non avevo fame. Allora capii che la fame è un istinto di chi guarda le vetrine dal di fuori. L'entrare, la disperde.

When bumble-bees in solemn flight

To subdue the bumble-bee!

When roses cease to bloom, dear

To own a Susan of my own Is of itself a Bliss — Whatever realm I forfeit, Lord, Continue me in this!

Split the lark and you'll find the music

The meteor of birds

We outgrow love like other things And put it in the drawer

I lost a world the other day. Has anybody found? You'll know it by the row of stars Around its 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!

When Continents expire The Giants they discarded — are Promoted to endure —

I had no portrait, now, but am small, like the Wren, and my Hair is bold, like the Chestnut Bur – and my eyes, like the Sherry in the Glass, that the Guest leaves

Like Brooms of Steel Like Brooms of Steel The Snow and Wind Had swept the Winter Street - The House was hooked The Sun sent out Faint Deputies of Heat - Where rode the Bird The Silence tied His ample - plodding Steed The Apple in the Cellar snug Was all the one that played.

I find myself still softly searching for my delinquent palaces.

It's all I have to bring today It's all I have to bring today— This, and my heart beside— This, and my heart, and all the fields— And all the meadows wide— Be sure you count—should I forget Some one the sum could tell— This, and my heart, and all the Bees Which in the Clover dwell.

Les Étais soutiennent la Maison Jusqu'à ce que la Maison soit achevée Puis les Étais se retirent Et adéquate, droite, La Maison se tient seule Et ne se souvient plus Du Foret et du Charpentier - Telle est exactement l'expérience rétrospective D'une Vie accomplie - Un Passé de Planche et de Clou Et de lenteur - puis tombent les échafaudages Et s'affirme une Âme -

As if the chart were given.

parting is all we need to know of hell

The palate of hate departs, Anger as soon as fed is dead; 'Tis starving makes it fat.

But she and Death, acquainted

I dwell in Possibility—

I have not told my garden yet, Lest that should conquer me; I have not quite the strength now To break it to the bee.