Quote

I felt a Cleaving in my Mind- As if my Brain had split- I tried to match it- Seam by Seam- But could not make it fit.

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
Brain
Felt
Cleaving
Mind
Seam
Make
Split
Splits
Match
Fit
Tried

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Publication - is the auction of the mind.
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His Labor is a Chant - His Idleness -a Tune - Oh, for a Bee's experience Of Clovers, and of Noon!
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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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Because I could not stop for death, He kindly stopped for me The carriage held but just ourselves and immortality.
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Luck is not chance, it's toil fortune's expensive smile is earned.
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'Tis sweet to know that stocks will stand When we with Daisies lie- That Commerce will continue- And Trades as briskly fly.
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... And then I heard them lift a box, And creak across my soul With those same boots of lead, again, Then space began to toll.
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Love is like life-merely longer.
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Hope is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul, And sings the tune without the words, And never stops at all, And sweetest in the gale is heard And sore must be the storm That could abash the little bird That kept so many warm. I've heard it in the chilliest land And on the strangest sea Yet, never, in extremity, It asked a crumb of me.
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Saying nothing... sometimes says the most.
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Forever is made up of nows.
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The friend anguish reveals is the slowest forgot.
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Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul - and sings the tunes without the words - and never stops at all.
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A precious, mouldering pleasure 't is, to meet an antique book, In just the dress his century wore A privilege I think.
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For love is immortality.
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As Summer into Autumn slips And yet we sooner say The Summer than the Autumn, lest We turn the sun away, And almost count it an Affront The presence to concede Of one however lovely, not The one that we have loved - So we evade the charge of Years On one attempting shy The Circumvention of the Shaft Of Life's Declivity.
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The Truth never flaunted a sign.
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If Aims impel these Astral Ones The ones allowed to know Know that which makes them as forgot As Dawn forgets them now
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You cannot fold a flood and put it in a drawer, because the winds would find it out and tell your cedar floor.
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