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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.

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
Flood
Floor
Cedar
Wind
Cedars
Tell
Drawer
Cannot
Drawers
Find
Fold
Would
Folds
Winds

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That it will never come again is what makes life sweet.
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Beauty is not caused. It is.
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Best Witchcraft is Geometry To the magician's mind - His ordinary acts are feats To thinking of mankind.
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Our little kinsmen after rain In plenty may be seen, a pink and pulpy multitude The tepid ground upon A needless life if seemed to me Until a little bird As to a hospitality Advanced and breakfasted.
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Find ecstasy in life the mere sense of living is joy enough.
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Open your life wide, and take me in forever. I will never be tired-I will never be noisy when you want to be still...nobody else will see me, but you-but that is enough-I shall not want any more.
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To lose what we have never owned might seem an eccentric bereavement, but Presumption has its own affliction as well as claim.
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Publication - is the auction of the mind.
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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 Pleading of the Summer - That other Prank - of Snow - That Cushions Mystery with Tulle, For fear the Squirrels - know.
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Why should we censure Othello when the Criterion Lover says, Thou shalt have no other Gods before Me?
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Unable are the Loved to die For Love is Immortality, Nay, it is Deity - Unable they that love - to die For Love reforms Vitality Into Divinity.
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You cannot put a fire out! A thing that can ignite can go itself- without a flame- E'en through the darkest night!
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Prayer is the little implement Through which Men reach Where Presence - is denied them. They fling their Speech By means of it - in God's Ear - If then He hear - This sums the Apparatus Comprised in Prayer
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Morning without you is a dwindled dawn.
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The past is not a package one can lay away.
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To live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else.
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My love for those I love -- not many -- not very many, but don't I love them so?
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The steeples swam in amethyst, the news like squirrels swam.
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Besides the Autumn poets sing, A few prosaic days, A little this side of the snow, And that side of the Haze..., Grant me, Oh Lord, a sunny mind- Thy windy will to bear!
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