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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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A Letter is a Joy of Earth - It is denied the Gods
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Open your life wide, and take me in forever. I will never be tired-I will never be noisy when you want to be still...nobody else will see me, but you-but that is enough-I shall not want any more.
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A Word that Breathes Distinctly Has not the Power to Die
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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.
Emily Dickinson
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Mine Enemy is growing old -- I have at last Revenge -- The Palate of the Hate departs -- If any would avenge Let him be quick -- the Viand flits -- It is a faded Meat -- Anger as soon as fed is dead -- 'Tis starving makes it fat
Emily Dickinson
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After a hundred years Nobody knows the place, Agony, that enacted there, Motionless as peace.
Emily Dickinson
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Finite to fail, but infinite to venture.
Emily Dickinson
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Anger as soon as fed is dead- 'Tis starving makes it fat.
Emily Dickinson
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Much Madness is divinest Sense -- To a discerning Eye -- Much Sense -- the starkest Madness -- 'Tis the Majority In this, as All, prevail -- Assent -- and you are sane -- Demur -- you're straightway dangerous -- And handled with a Chain --
Emily Dickinson
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His Labor is a Chant - His Idleness -a Tune - Oh, for a Bee's experience Of Clovers, and of Noon!
Emily Dickinson
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The Brain is just the weight of God-- For--Heft them--Pound for Pound-- And they will differ--if they do-- As Syllable from Sound
Emily Dickinson
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To possess is past the instant we achieve the joy, immortality contented, were anomaly.
Emily Dickinson
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The hearts that never lean must fall.
Emily Dickinson
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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.
Emily Dickinson
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Had we less to say to those we love, perhaps we should say it oftener.
Emily Dickinson
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Will you tell me my fault, frankly as to yourself, for I had rather wince, than die. Men do not call the surgeon to commend the bone, but to set it, Sir.
Emily Dickinson
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God's little Blond Blessing we have long deemed you, and hope his so-called Will will not compel him to revoke you.
Emily Dickinson
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Why should we censure Othello when the Criterion Lover says, Thou shalt have no other Gods before Me?
Emily Dickinson
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A dim capacity for wings demeans the dress I wear.
Emily Dickinson
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I dwell in Possibility A fairer house than Prose More numerous of Windows Superior — for Doors.
Emily Dickinson