Quote

Nature is what we see - the hill, the afternoon, squirrel, eclipse, the bumblebee. Nay, nature is heaven. Nature is what we hear...

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
Afternoon
Hills
Bumblebee
Hear
Squirrel
Heaven
Squirrels
Nature
Eclipse
Hill
Bees

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Best Witchcraft is Geometry To the magician's mind - His ordinary acts are feats To thinking of mankind.
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Write me of hope and love, and hearts that endured.
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A Dominie in Gray-- Put gently up the evening Bars-- And led the flock away
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I dwell in possibilities .
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Unable are the loved to die, for love is immortality.
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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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When everything that ticked has stopped, and space stares, all around, or grisly frosts, first autumn morns, repeal the beating ground.
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The power to console is not within corporeal reach - though its attempt is precious.
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Suspense-is Hostiler than Death-Death- tho soever Broad, Is just Death, and cannot increase- Suspense-does not conclude-.
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The Spider as an Artist Has never been employed- Though his surpassing Merit Is freely certified.
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Not to discover weakness is The Artifice of strength.
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Prayer is the little implement through which men reach where presence is denied them.
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You'll find it-when you try to die- The Easier to let go- For recollecting such as went- You could not spare-you know.
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I know nothing in the world that has as much power as a word. Sometimes I write one, and I look at it, until it begins to shine.
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By Chivalries as tiny, A Blossom, or a Book, The seeds of smiles are planted- Which Blossom in the dark.
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He deposes Doom Who hath suffered him.
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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
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They say that “Time assuages” - Time never did assuage - An actual suffering strengthens As Sinews do, with age - Time is a Test of Trouble - But not a Remedy - If such it prove, it prove too There was no Malady
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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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