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The spreading wide my narrow Hands / To gather Paradise-.

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
Spreading
Gather
Narrow
Paradise
Wide
Hands

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I have an appetite for silence.
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You are nipping in the bud fancies which I let blossom. The shore is safer, but I love to buffet the sea - I can count the bitter wrecks here in these pleasant waters, and hear the murmuring winds, but oh, I love the danger!
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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.
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When everything that ticked has stopped, and space stares, all around, or grisly frosts, first autumn morns, repeal the beating ground.
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The soul should always stand ajar, ready to welcome the ecstatic experience.
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Where thou art, that is home.
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Prosperity Whose sources are interior. As soon Adversity A diamond overtake.
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The Service without Hope Is tenderest, I think-- ... There is no Diligence like that That knows not an Until
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Morning without you is a dwindled dawn.
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The friend anguish reveals is the slowest forgot.
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I don't profess to be profound but I do lay claim to common sense.
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The Spider as an Artist Has never been employed- Though his surpassing Merit Is freely certified.
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It is better to be the hammer than the anvil.
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Love is like life-merely longer.
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The reticent volcano keeps His never slumbering plan - Confided are his projects pink To no precarious man.
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God's little Blond Blessing we have long deemed you, and hope his so-called Will will not compel him to revoke you.
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A Word that Breathes Distinctly Has not the Power to Die
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I hope your rambles have been sweet, and your reveries spacious
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The appetite for silence is seldom an acquired taste.
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Friends are nations in themselves.
Emily Dickinson