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Unable are the loved to die, for love is 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
Immortality
Sympathy
Loved
Dies
Condolences
Death
Bereavement
Love
Emily
Grieving
Unable

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Beauty is just a light switch away...'click!' Beauty is not caused. It is.
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To be alive is power existence in itself without a further function omnipotence.
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Beauty is not caused. It is.
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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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The only Commandment I ever obeyed — 'Consider the Lilies.
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Answer July- Where is the Bee- Where is the Blush- Where is the Hay? Ah, said July- Where is the Seed- Where is the Bud- Where is the May- Answer Thee-Me-
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Tis not that dieing hurts us so- tis living- hurts us more.
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[A] mother is one to whom you hurry when you are troubled.
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The WILL is always near, dear, though the feet vary.
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Assent - and you are sane - Demur - and you're straightaway dangerous - and handled with a chain.
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I think Heaven will not be as good as earth, unless it bring with it that sweet power to remember, which is the staple of Heaven here.
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I . . . am small, like the wren, and my hair is bold like the chestnut burr and my eyes like the sherry in the glass that the guest leaves.
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I never saw a moor, I never saw the sea Yet know I how the heather looks, And what a wave must be. I never spoke with God, Nor visited in Heaven Yet certain am I of the spot, As if a chart were given.
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The appetite for silence is seldom an acquired taste.
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To shut your eyes is to travel.
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I dwell in Possibility A fairer House than Prose More numerous of Windows Superior--for Doors Of Chambers as the Cedars Impregnable of Eye And for an Everlasting Roof The Gambrels of the Sky Of Visitors--the fairest For Occupation--This The spreading wide my narrow Hands To gather Paradise
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They might not need me but they might. I'll let my head be just in sight a smile as small as mine might be precisely their necessity.
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Friends are nations in themselves.
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To see her is a picture- To hear her is a tune- To know her an Intemperance As innocent as June- To know her not-Affliction- To own her for a Friend A warmth as near as if the the Sun Were shining in your Hand.
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How do most people live without any thought? There are many people in the world,--you must have noticed them in the street,--how do they live? How do they get strength to put on their clothes in the morning?
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