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Forever is composed of Nows— 'Tis not a different time— Except for Infiniteness— And Latitude of Home

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
Eternity
Except
Forever
Home
Different
Infiniteness
Time
Nows
Latitude
Composed

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A color stands abroad on solitary hills that silence cannot overtake, but human nature feels.
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Pardon My Sanity In A World Insane
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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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There's a certain Slant of light, Winter afternoons— That oppresses, like the Heft Of Cathedral Tunes— Heavenly Hurt, it gives us— We can find no scar, But internal difference, Where the Meanings, are.... When it comes, the Landscape listens— Shadows—hold their breath— When it goes, 'tis like the Distance On the look of Death.
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The Supernatural is only the Natural disclosed.
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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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That love is all there is, Is all we know of love.
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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.
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This is my letter to the world That never wrote to me
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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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Heaven is so far of the mind that were the mind dissolved - the site of it by architect could not again be proved.
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Nature is what we see - the hill, the afternoon, squirrel, eclipse, the bumblebee. Nay, nature is heaven. Nature is what we hear...
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His Cheek is his Biographer- As long as he can blush.
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His Labor is a Chant - His Idleness -a Tune - Oh, for a Bee's experience Of Clovers, and of Noon!
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Common sense is almost as omniscient as God.
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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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Forever is made up of nows.
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We meet no Stranger, but Ourself.
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Tell all the Truth but tell it slant-- Success in Circuit lies Too bright for our infirm Delight The Truth's superb surprise As Lightning to the Children eased With explanation kind The Truth must dazzle gradually Or every man be blind--
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