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God gave a loaf to every bird, But just a crumb to me.

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
Justice
Every
Crumb
Loaf
Crumbs
Bird
Gave

More quotes by Emily Dickinson

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The spreading wide my narrow Hands / To gather Paradise-.
Emily Dickinson
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If I shouldn't be alive When the Robins come, Give the one in Red Cravat, A Memorial crumb.
Emily Dickinson
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Which Anguish was the utterest--then-- To perish, or to live?
Emily Dickinson
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By Chivalries as tiny, A Blossom, or a Book, The seeds of smiles are planted- Which Blossom in the dark.
Emily Dickinson
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Find ecstasy in life the mere sense of living is joy enough.
Emily Dickinson
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Forever - is composed of Nows - 'Tis not a different time... Let Months dissolve in further Months - And Years - exhale in Years.
Emily Dickinson
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Two Seasons, it is said, exist- The Summer of the Just, And this of Ours, diversified With Prospect, and with Frost- May not our Second with its First So infinite compare That We but recollect the one The other to prefer?
Emily Dickinson
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Eternity' is there, We say, as of a station. Meanwhile, he is so near, He joins me in my Ramble? Divides abode with me? No Friend have I that so persists As this Eternity.
Emily Dickinson
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The brain is wider than the sky.
Emily Dickinson
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A narrow Fellow in the Grass Occasionally rides
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.
Emily Dickinson
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The possible's slow fuse is lit by the Imagination.
Emily Dickinson
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I held a jewel in my fingers And went to sleep. The day was warm, and winds were prosy I said: 'T will keep. I woke and chid my honest fingers,— The gem was gone And now an amethyst remembrance Is all I own.
Emily Dickinson
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The reticent volcano keeps His never slumbering plan - Confided are his projects pink To no precarious man.
Emily Dickinson
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The morns are meeker than they were, The nuts are getting brown The berry's cheek is plumper, The rose is out of town. The maple wears a gayer scarf, The field a scarlet gown. Lest I should be old-fashioned, I'll put a trinket on.
Emily Dickinson
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Spring is the Period Express from God. Among the other seasons Himself abide, But during March and April None stir abroad Without a cordial interview With God.
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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Nothing more do I ask than to share with you the ecstasy and sacrament of my life.
Emily Dickinson
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The hearts that never lean must fall.
Emily Dickinson
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Memory is a strange Bell—Jubilee, and Knell.
Emily Dickinson