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The possible's slow fuse is lit by the Imagination.

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
Possible
Fuse
Lit
Slow
Possibility
Imagination

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I wonder if it hurts to live, And if they have to try, And whether, could they choose between, They would not rather die.
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The brain is wider than the sky.
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Fame is a fickle food upon a shifting plate.
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Knew I how to pray, to intercede for your [broken] Foot were intuitive - but I am but a Pagan.
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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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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-
Emily Dickinson
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You left me boundaries of pain Capacious as the sea, Between eternity and time, Your consciousness and me.
Emily Dickinson
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Friends are nations in themselves.
Emily Dickinson
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The appetite for silence is seldom an acquired taste.
Emily Dickinson
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A color stands abroad on solitary hills that silence cannot overtake, but human nature feels.
Emily Dickinson
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Beauty is just a light switch away...'click!' Beauty is not caused. It is.
Emily Dickinson
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The abdication of Belief Makes the Behavior small- Better an ignis fatuus Than no illume at all.
Emily Dickinson
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It is finished, is never said of us
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We never know we go when we are going- We jest and shut the Door- Fate-following-behind us bolts it- And we accost no more-.
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His Labor is a Chant - His Idleness -a Tune - Oh, for a Bee's experience Of Clovers, and of Noon!
Emily Dickinson
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The soul should always stand ajar, ready to welcome the ecstatic experience.
Emily Dickinson
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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.
Emily Dickinson
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Just a turn of the doorknob, and there lies freedom.
Emily Dickinson
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Other Courtesies have been - Other Courtesy may be - We commend ourselves to thee Paragon of Chivalry.
Emily Dickinson
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We trust in plumed procession For such the angels go Rank after rank, with even feet/And uniforms of snow.
Emily Dickinson