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Because I could not stop for death, He kindly stopped for me The carriage held but just ourselves and immortality.

Emily Dickinson

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Emily Dickinson
Age: 55 †
Born: 1830
Born: December 10
Died: 1886
Died: May 15
Poet
Writer
Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
Ai-mi-li Ti-chin-sen
Emilia Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Held
Carriage
Dying
Carriages
Emotional
Eulogy
Stop
Emily
Spiritual
Kindly
Death
Immortality
Immortal
Stopped

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When we think of his lone effort to live and its bleak reward, the mind turns to the myth for His mercy endureth forever, with confiding revulsion.
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Beauty is not the cause of something, it is what it is.
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The abdication of Belief Makes the Behavior small- Better an ignis fatuus Than no illume at all.
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When a Lover is a Beggar Abject is his Knee. When a Lover is an Owner Different is he.
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I could not prove the Years had feet-/Yet confident they run.
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Forever - is composed of Nows - 'Tis not a different time... Let Months dissolve in further Months - And Years - exhale in Years.
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The Spider as an Artist Has never been employed- Though his surpassing Merit Is freely certified.
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I held a jewel in my fingers And went to sleep. The day was warm, and winds were prosy I said: 'T will keep. I woke and chid my honest fingers,— The gem was gone And now an amethyst remembrance Is all I own.
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What Soft--Cherubic Creatures-- These Gentlewomen are-- One would as soon assault a Plush-- Or violate a Star
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That it will never come again is what makes life sweet.
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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.
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Why should we censure Othello when the Criterion Lover says, Thou shalt have no other Gods before Me?
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I dwell in Possibility A fairer house than Prose More numerous of Windows Superior — for Doors.
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Angels in the early morning may be seen the dews among. Stooping, plucking, smiling, flying. Do the buds to them belong?
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Open your life wide, and take me in forever. I will never be tired-I will never be noisy when you want to be still...nobody else will see me, but you-but that is enough-I shall not want any more.
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The Pleading of the Summer - That other Prank - of Snow - That Cushions Mystery with Tulle, For fear the Squirrels - know.
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I tasted life.
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I don't profess to be profound but I do lay claim to common sense.
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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
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