Quote

I hope you love birds too. It is economical. It saves going to heaven.

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
Love
Economical
Parrots
Saves
Birds
Bird
Heaven
Hope
Going
Birdsong

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A wounded deer leaps the highest.
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The Crime, from us, is hidden, [though] he is presumed to know.
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That love is all there is, Is all we know of love.
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Hope is a thing with feathers
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Fortune befriends the bold.
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The soul should always stand ajar, ready to welcome the ecstatic experience.
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A charm invests a face Imperfectly beheld,— The lady dare not lift her veil For fear it be dispelled. But peers beyond her mesh, And wishes, and denies,— Lest interview annul a want That image satisfies.
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I dwell in possibilities... a fairer house than prose.
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Where thou art, that is home.
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I stepped from Plank to Plank A slow and cautious way
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I'm Nobody! Who are you? Are you – Nobody – too? Then there's a pair of us? Don't tell! they'd advertise – you know! How dreary – to be – Somebody! How public – like a Frog – To tell one's name – the livelong June – To an admiring Bog!
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The Heart wants what it wants - or else it does not care
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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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This so much joy! This so much joy! If I should fail, what poverty! And yet, as poor as I Have ventured all upon a throw Have gained! Yes! Hesitated so this side the victory!
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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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Speech is one symptom of affection and silence one the perfect communication is heard of none.
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I could not prove the Years had feet-/Yet confident they run.
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God gave a loaf to every bird, But just a crumb to me.
Emily Dickinson
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The last of Summer is Delight - Deterred by Retrospect. 'Tis Ecstasy's revealed Review - Enchantment's Syndicate. To meet it - nameless as it is - Without celestial Mail - Audacious as without a Knock To walk within the Veil.
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Those who have not found the heaven below, will fail of it above.
Emily Dickinson