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The Things that never can come back, are several - Childhood - some forms of Hope - the Dead.

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
Hope
Form
Back
Come
Things
Several
Never
Forms
Childhood
Dead

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God gave a loaf to every bird, But just a crumb to me.
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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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Knew I how to pray, to intercede for your [broken] Foot were intuitive - but I am but a Pagan.
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Fame is a bee It has a song - It has a sting - Ah, too, it has a wing.
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You remember my ideal cat has always a huge rat in its mouth, just going out of sight - though going out of sight in itself has a peculiar pleasure.
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Such is the force of Happiness-- The Least can lift a ton Assisted by its stimulus.
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Enough is so vast a sweetness I suppose it never occurs.
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That it will never come again is what makes life sweet.
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I dwell in possibilities .
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Wonder is not precisely knowing.
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Old age comes on suddenly, and not gradually as is thought.
Emily Dickinson
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I felt it shelter to speak to you.
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Why should we censure Othello when the Criterion Lover says, Thou shalt have no other Gods before Me?
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A Bayonet's contrition is nothing to the dead.
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Proud of my broken heart since thou didst break it, Proud of the pain I did not feel till thee, Proud of my night since thou with moons dost slake it, Not to partake thy passion, my humility.
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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.
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a sick room is at times too sacred a place for a friend's knock, timid as that is.
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The truth I do not dare to know I muffle with a jest.
Emily Dickinson
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The Truth never flaunted a sign.
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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