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I could not prove the Years had feet-/Yet confident they run.

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
Confident
Prove
Feet
Running
Years

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People need hard times and oppression to develop psychic muscles.
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To live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else.
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If you take care of the small things, the big things take care of themselves. You can gain more control over your life by paying closer attention to the little things.
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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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I dwell in Possibility A fairer house than Prose More numerous of Windows Superior — for Doors.
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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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To be alive is power existence in itself without a further function omnipotence.
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Had we less to say to those we love, perhaps we should say it oftener.
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One need not be a chamber to be haunted.
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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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Find ecstasy in life the mere sense of living is joy enough.
Emily Dickinson
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I . . . am small, like the wren, and my hair is bold like the chestnut burr and my eyes like the sherry in the glass that the guest leaves.
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The power to console is not within corporeal reach - though its attempt is precious.
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If fame belonged to me, I could not escape her if she did not, the longest day would pass me on the chase, and the approbation of my dog would forsake me.
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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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I cannot live with you, It would be life, And life is over there Behind the shelf
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That it will never come again is what makes life sweet.
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September's Baccalaureate A combination is Of Crickets - Crows - and Retrospects And a dissembling Breeze That hints without assuming - An Innuendo sear That makes the Heart put up its Fun And turn Philosopher.
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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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I have an appetite for silence.
Emily Dickinson