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Beauty is just a light switch away...'click!' Beauty is not caused. It is.

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
Caused
Beauty
Away
Light
Click
Clicks
Switch

More quotes by Emily Dickinson

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Not 'Revelation'-'tis that waits/ But our unfurnished eyes
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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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I dwell in Possibility A fairer house than Prose More numerous of Windows Superior — for Doors.
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I hope you love birds too. It is economical. It saves going to heaven.
Emily Dickinson
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The things of which we want the proof are those we know the best.
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I have an appetite for silence.
Emily Dickinson
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Love is like life-merely longer.
Emily Dickinson
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You cannot fold a flood and put it in a drawer, because the winds would find it out and tell your cedar floor.
Emily Dickinson
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The appetite for silence is seldom an acquired taste.
Emily Dickinson
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Answer July- Where is the Bee- Where is the Blush- Where is the Hay? Ah, said July- Where is the Seed- Where is the Bud- Where is the May- Answer Thee-Me-
Emily Dickinson
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I hope your rambles have been sweet, and your reveries spacious
Emily Dickinson
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My business is circumference.
Emily Dickinson
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A precious, mouldering pleasure 't is, to meet an antique book, In just the dress his century wore A privilege I think.
Emily Dickinson
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The soul should always stand ajar, ready to welcome the ecstatic experience.
Emily Dickinson
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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.
Emily Dickinson
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A narrow Fellow in the Grass Occasionally rides
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Spring is the Period Express from God.
Emily Dickinson
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Truth is so rare that it is delightful to tell it.
Emily Dickinson
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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.
Emily Dickinson
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Mirth is the Mail of Anguish --
Emily Dickinson