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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

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
Tombs
Arrows
Strike
Strikes
Escape
Trackless
Atheism
Slew
Slay
Tomb

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The only secret people keep is immortality.
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You left me boundaries of pain Capacious as the sea, Between eternity and time, Your consciousness and me.
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How happy is the little stone That rambles in the road alone, And doesn't care about careers, And exigencies never fears Whose coat of elemental brown A passing universe put on And independent as the sun, Associates or glows alone, Fulfilling absolute decree In casual simplicity.
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It is better to be the hammer than the anvil.
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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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Surgeons must be very careful When they take the knife! Underneath their fine incisions Stirs the Culprit-Life!
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The brain is wider than the sky.
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Pain - has an Element of Blank It cannot recollect When it begun - or if there were a time when it was not - It has no Future - but itself - Its Infinite contain Its Past - enlightened to perceive New Periods - of Pain.
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Wild Nights – Wild Nights! Were I with thee Wild Nights should be Our luxury! Futile – the winds – To a heart in port – Done with the compass – Done with the chart! Rowing in Eden – Ah, the sea! Might I moor – Tonight – In thee!
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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.
Emily Dickinson
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After a hundred years Nobody knows the place, Agony, that enacted there, Motionless as peace.
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Forever is composed of Nows— 'Tis not a different time— Except for Infiniteness— And Latitude of Home
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How lucious lies the pea within the pod.
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Not if Their Party were waiting, Not if to talk with Me Were to Them now, Homesickness After Eternity.
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If I shouldn't be alive When the Robins come, Give the one in Red Cravat, A Memorial crumb.
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Endow the Living - with the Tears - You squander on the Dead.
Emily Dickinson
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Those who lift their hats shall see Nature as devout do God.
Emily Dickinson
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I tasted - careless - then - I did not know the Wine Came once a World - Did you? Oh, had you told me so - This Thirst would blister - easier - now
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Existence has overpowered Books. Today I slew a Mushroom.
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Those who have not found the heaven below, will fail of it above.
Emily Dickinson