Quote

Safe Despair it is that raves- Agony is frugal. Puts itself severe away For its own perusal.

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
Despair
Safe
Raves
Away
Perusal
Rave
Frugal
Agony
Severe
Puts

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Write me of hope and love, and hearts that endured.
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A Toad, can die of Light - Death is the Common Right Of Toads and Men
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The lovely flowers embarrass me. They make me regret I am not a bee.
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Surgeons must be very careful When they take the knife! Underneath their fine incisions Stirs the Culprit-Life!
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A Deed knocks first at Thought And then - it knocks at Will - That is the manufacturing spot.
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That short, potential stir That each can make but once, That bustle so illustrious Tis almost consequence, Is the eclat of death.
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It is better to be the hammer than the anvil.
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For each ecstatic instant We must an anguish pay In keen and quivering ratio To the ecstasy.
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We trust in plumed procession For such the angels go Rank after rank, with even feet/And uniforms of snow.
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I dwell in Possibility A fairer house than Prose More numerous of Windows Superior — for Doors.
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There is a solitude of space. A solitude of sea. A solitude of death, but these societies shall be compared with that profounder site-that polar privacy. A soul admitted to itself--Finite infinity.
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Grant me, O Lord, a sunny mind-Thy windy will to bear!
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Eden is that old-fashioned house we dwell in every day Without suspecting our abode until we drive away.
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Nothing more do I ask than to share with you the ecstasy and sacrament of my life.
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I took one Draught of Life - I'll tell you what I paid - Precisely an existence - The market price, they said.
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By Chivalries as tiny, A Blossom, or a Book, The seeds of smiles are planted- Which Blossom in the dark.
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Memory is a strange Bell—Jubilee, and Knell.
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Some Arrows slay but whom they strike - But this slew all but him - Who so appareled his Escape - Too trackless for a Tomb
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I'm Nobody! Who are you? Are you – Nobody – too? Then there's a pair of us? Don't tell! they'd advertise – you know! How dreary – to be – Somebody! How public – like a Frog – To tell one's name – the livelong June – To an admiring Bog!
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The bustle in a house The morning after death Is solemnest of industries Enacted upon earth,-- The sweeping up the heart, And putting love away We shall not want to use again Until eternity
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