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Affection is like bread, unnoticed till we starve, and then we dream of it, and sing of it, and paint it, when every urchin in the street has more than he can eat.

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
Street
Urchin
Sing
Starve
Paint
Unnoticed
Streets
Sad
Dream
Till
Every
Affection
Like
Sadness
Bread

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The friend anguish reveals is the slowest forgot.
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The Morning after Woe- Tis frequently the Way- Surpasses all that rose before- For utter Jubilee-.
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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 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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Exultation is the going Of an inland soul to sea Past the houses, past the headlands Into deep eternity! Bred as we, among the mountains Can the sailor understand The divine intoxication Of the first league out from land?
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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 stepped from Plank to Plank A slow and cautious way
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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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And you dropt, lost, When something broke-- And let you from a Dream
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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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I can wade Grief -- Whole Pools of it -- I'm used to that -- But the least push of Joy Breaks up my feet -- And I tip -- drunken -- Let no Pebble -- smile -- 'Twas the New Liquor -- That was all!
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The vastest earthly Day Is shrunken small By one Defaulting Face Behind a Pall.
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As Summer into Autumn slips And yet we sooner say The Summer than the Autumn, lest We turn the sun away, And almost count it an Affront The presence to concede Of one however lovely, not The one that we have loved - So we evade the charge of Years On one attempting shy The Circumvention of the Shaft Of Life's Declivity.
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Opinion is a fitting thing but truth outlasts the sun - if then we cannot own them both, possess the oldest one.
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I could not stop for death and he did not stop for me.
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You are out of the way of temptation and out of the way of the tempter - I didn't mean to make you wicked - but I was - and am - and shall be - and I was with you so much that I couldn't help contaminate.
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I dwell in Possibility A fairer House than Prose More numerous of Windows Superior--for Doors Of Chambers as the Cedars Impregnable of Eye And for an Everlasting Roof The Gambrels of the Sky Of Visitors--the fairest For Occupation--This The spreading wide my narrow Hands To gather Paradise
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An altered look about the hills A Tyrian light the village fills A wider sunrise in the dawn A deeper twilight on the lawn A print of a vermilion foot A purple finger on the slope A flippant fly upon the pane A spider at his trade again An added strut in chanticleer A flower expected everywhere.
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For love is immortality.
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He ate and drank the precious Words, his Spirit grew robust He knew no more that he was poor, nor that his frame was Dust.
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