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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.

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
Precious
Dust
Poverty
Grew
Knew
Poor
Robust
Words
Drank
Spirit
Frame

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For love is immortality.
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If I shouldn't be alive When the Robins come, Give the one in Red Cravat, A Memorial crumb.
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I could not stop for death and he did not stop for me.
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God's unique capacity is too surprising to surprise.
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Home is the definition of God.
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Existence has overpowered Books. Today I slew a Mushroom.
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Exultation is the going Of an inland soul to sea Past the houses, past the headlands Into deep eternity! Bred as we, among the mountains Can the sailor understand The divine intoxication Of the first league out from land?
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The brain is wider than the sky.
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There is a solitude of space. A solitude of sea. A solitude of death, but these societies shall be compared with that profounder site-that polar privacy. A soul admitted to itself--Finite infinity.
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A color stands abroad on solitary hills that silence cannot overtake, but human nature feels.
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Forever is made up of nows.
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The past is not a package one can lay away.
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Much Madness is Divinest Sense, to a Discerning Eye.
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It is easy to work when the soul is at play.
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Pardon My Sanity In A World Insane
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I hope your rambles have been sweet, and your reveries spacious
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By Chivalries as tiny, A Blossom, or a Book, The seeds of smiles are planted- Which Blossom in the dark.
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Friends are nations in themselves.
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A Toad, can die of Light - Death is the Common Right Of Toads and Men
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PHOSPHORESCENCE. Now there's a word to lift your hat to... to find that phosphorescence, that light within, that's the genius behind poetry.
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