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I do not like the man who squanders life for fame give me the man who living makes a name.
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
Squanders
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More quotes by Emily Dickinson
Hold dear to your parents for it is a scary and confusing world without them.
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The Crime, from us, is hidden, [though] he is presumed to know.
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God's unique capacity is too surprising to surprise.
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My business is circumference.
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March is the month of expectation, The things we do not know, The Persons of Prognostication Are coming now. We try to sham becoming firmness, But pompous joy Betrays us, as his first betrothal Betrays a boy.
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It is better to be the hammer than the anvil.
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Faith is a fine invention When gentlemen can see, But microscopes are prudent In an emergency.
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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?
Emily Dickinson
I am one of the lingering bad ones, and so do I slink away, and pause, and ponder, and ponder, and pause, and do work without knowing why - not surely for this brief world, and more sure it is not for heaven - and I ask what this message of Christ means.
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Beauty is just a light switch away...'click!' Beauty is not caused. It is.
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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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The Supernatural is only the Natural disclosed.
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Forever is composed of Nows 'Tis not a different time Except for Infiniteness And Latitude of Home
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Enough is so vast a sweetness I suppose it never occurs.
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Fortune befriends the bold.
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Fame is a fickle food Upon a shifting plate, Whose table once a Guest, but not The second time, is set. Whose crumbs the crows inspect, And with ironic caw Flap past it to the Farmer's corn Men eat of it and die.
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I took one Draught of Life - I'll tell you what I paid - Precisely an existence - The market price, they said.
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I hope your rambles have been sweet, and your reveries spacious
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To multiply the harbors does not reduce the sea.
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The truth I do not dare to know I muffle with a jest.
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