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She Died--this Was The Way She Died; And When Her Breath Was Done, Took Up Her Simple Wardrobe And Started For The Sun. Her Little Figure At The Gate The Angels Must Have Spied, Since I Could Never Find Her Upon The Mortal Side.

-Emily Dickinson

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She Died--this Was The

Emily Dickinson

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She Died--this Was The Way She Died; And When Her Breath Was Done, Took Up Her Simple Wardrobe And Started For The Sun. Her Little Figure At The Gate The Angels Must Have Spied, Since I Could Never Find Her Upon The Mortal Side.

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Those Who Lift Their Hats Shall See Nature As Devout Do God.

Positive Atheism

Those Who Have Not Found The Heaven Below, Will Fail Of It Above.

The Dandelion's Pallid Tube Astonishes The Grass, And Winter Instantly Becomes An Infinite Alas.

The Power To Console Is Not Within Corporeal Reach - Though Its Attempt Is Precious.

Forever Is Comprised Of Nows.

It Might Be Lonelier Without The Loneliness - I’m So Accustomed To My Fate - Perhaps The Other - Peace - Would Interrupt The Dark - And Crowd The Little Room - Too Scant - By Cubits - To Contain The Sacrament - Of Him - I Am Not Used To Hope - It Might Intrude Upon - Its Sweet Parade - Blaspheme The Place - Ordained To Suffering - It Might Be Easier To Fail - With Land In Sight - Than Gain - My Blue Peninsula - To Perish - Of Delight -

What Shall We Do My Darling, When Trial Grows More, And More, When The Dim, Lone Light Expires, And It's Dark, So Very Dark, And We Wander, And Know Not Where, And Cannot Get Out Of The Forest - Whose Is The Hand To Help Us, And To Lead, And Forever Guide Us? ... Where Do You Think I've Strayed And From What New Errand Returned. I Have Come From To And Fro, And Walking Up And Down The Same Place That Satan Hailed From When God Asked Where He'd Been.

Hope Is The Thing With Feathers That Perches In The Soul, And Sings The Tune Without The Words, And Never Stops At All, And Sweetest In The Gale Is Heard; And Sore Must Be The Storm That Could Abash The Little Bird That Kept So Many Warm. I've Heard It In The Chilliest Land And On The Strangest Sea; Yet, Never, In Extremity, It Asked A Crumb Of Me.

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.

Belshazzar Had A Letter,-- He Never Had But One; Belshazzar's Correspondence Concluded And Begun In That Immortal Copy The Conscience Of Us All Can Read Without Its Glasses On Revelation's Wall.

Prayer Is The Little Implement Through Which Men Reach Where Presence - Is Denied Them. They Fling Their Speech By Means Of It - In God's Ear - If Then He Hear - This Sums The Apparatus Comprised In Prayer

God's Little Blond Blessing We Have Long Deemed You, And Hope His So-called Will Will Not Compel Him To Revoke You.

Other Courtesies Have Been - Other Courtesy May Be - We Commend Ourselves To Thee Paragon Of Chivalry.

The Pleading Of The Summer - That Other Prank - Of Snow - That Cushions Mystery With Tulle, For Fear The Squirrels - Know.

Hold Dear To Your Parents For It Is A Scary And Confusing World Without Them.

I Never Saw A Meme; I Never Saw The Sea.

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.

Just Girt Me For The Onset With Eternity, When Breath Blew Back, And On The Other Side I Heard Recede The Disappointed Tide!

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.

I Had Been Hungry All The Years- My Noon Had Come, To Dine- I, Trembling, Drew The Table Near And Touched The Curious Wine. 'twas This On Tables I Had Seen When Turning, Hungry, Lone, I Looked In Windows, For The Wealth I Could Not Hope To Own. I Did Not Know The Ample Bread, 'twas So Unlike The Crumb The Birds And I Had Often Shared In Nature's Diningroom. The Plenty Hurt Me, 'twas So New,-- Myself Felt Ill And Odd, As Berry Of A Mountain Bush Transplanted To The Road. Nor Was I Hungry; So I Found That Hunger Was A Way Of Persons Outside Windows, The Entering Takes Away.

You Cannot Put A Fire Out! A Thing That Can Ignite Can Go Itself- Without A Flame- E'en Through The Darkest Night!

Prosperity Whose Sources Are Interior. As Soon Adversity A Diamond Overtake.

But A Book Is Only The Heart's Portrait- Every Page A Pulse.

To Lose Ones Faith-surpass The Loss Of An Estate- Because Estates Can Be Replenished- Faith Cannot-.

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

I Am Nobody! Who Are You? Are You A Nobody, Too?

No Life Can Pompless Pass Away - The Lowliest Career To The Same Pageant Wends Its Way As That Exalted Here -

The Sailor Cannot See The North / But Knows The Needle Can.

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

It Sounded As If The Streets Were Running, And Then The Streets Stood Still.

I Don't Profess To Be Profound; But I Do Lay Claim To Common Sense.

Words Of Wisdom

Nature, Like Us Is Sometimes Caught Without Her Diadem.

Heart, We Will Forget Him, You And I, Tonight! You Must Forget The Warmth He Gave, I Will Forget The Light.

I Died For Beauty--but Was Scarce Adjusted In The Tomb When One Who Died For Truth, Was Lain In An Adjoining Room

A Sick Room Is At Times Too Sacred A Place For A Friend's Knock, Timid As That Is.

Wonder Is Not Precisely Knowing.

I Stepped From Plank To Plank A Slow And Cautious Way

It Is True That The Unknown Is The Largest Need Of The Intellect, Though For It, No One Thinks To Thank God.

The Reticent Volcano Keeps His Never Slumbering Plan - Confided Are His Projects Pink To No Precarious Man.

A Wounded Deer Leaps The Highest.

They Say That God Is Everywhere, And Yet We Always Think Of Him As Somewhat Of A Recluse.

The Mountain At A Given Distance In Amber Lies; Approached, The Amber Flits A Little,-- And That's The Skies!

Forever - Is Composed Of Nows - 'tis Not A Different Time... Let Months Dissolve In Further Months - And Years - Exhale In Years.

Much Madness Is Divinest Sense, To A Discerning Eye.

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

I Argue Thee That Love Is Life. And Life Hath Immortality.

Apparently With No Surprise To Any Happy Flower The Frost Beheads It At Its Play -- In Accidental Power -- The Blonde Assassin Passes On -- The Sun Proceeds Unmoved To Measure Off Another Day For An Approving God.

How Softly Summer Shuts, Without The Creaking Of A Door.

The Truth Dazzles Gradually, Or Else The World Would Be Blind.

To Be Alive Is Power; Existence In Itself; Without A Further Function; Omnipotence.

When He Tells Us About His Father, We Distrust Him. When He Shows Us His Home, We Turn Away, But When He Confides To Us That He Is Acquainted With Grief, We Listen, For That Also Is An Acquaintance Of Our Own.

Then, As Horizons Step, Or Noons Report Away,without The Formula Of Sound, It Passes, And We Stay:a Quality Of Loss Affecting Our Content.

My Life Closed Twice Before Its Close

Luck Is Not Chance, It's Toil; Fortune's Expensive Smile Is Earned.

Here Is A Little Forest Whose Leaf Is Ever Green; Here Is A Brighter Garden, Where Not A Frost Has Been; In Its Unfading Flowers I Hear The Bright Bee Hum; Prithee, My Brother, Into My Garden Come!

Renunciation-is A Piercing Virtue-the Letting Go A Presence-for An Expectation-.

If Your Nerve, Deny You - Go Above Your Nerve

This Is My Letter To The World, That Never Wrote To Me, The Simple News That Nature Told, With Tender Majesty. Her Message Is Committed, To Hands I Cannot See; For Love Of Her, Sweet Countrymen, Judge Tenderly Of Me.

The Abdication Of Belief Makes The Behavior Small- Better An Ignis Fatuus Than No Illume At All.

I Was Almost Persuaded To Be A Christian. I Thought I Never Again Could Be Thoughtless And Worldly. But I Soon Forgot My Morning Prayer Or Else It Was Irksome To Me. One By One My Old Habits Returned And I Cared Less For Religion Than Ever.

The Words The Happy Say Are Paltry Melody But Those The Silent Feel Are Beautiful-.

The Heart Asks Pleasure First, And Then, Excuse From Pain; And Then, Those Little Anodynes That Deaden Suffering; And Then, To Go To Sleep; And Then, If It Should Be The Will Of Its Inquisitor, The Liberty To Die.

Morning Without You Is A Dwindled Dawn.

All Things Do Go A-courting, In Earth, Or Sea, Or Air, God Hath Made Nothing Single But Thee In His World So Fair.

You Ask Of My Companions. Hills, Sir, And The Sundown, And A Dog As Large As Myself.

You Can Stay Young As Long As You Learn.

A Dim Capacity For Wings Demeans The Dress I Wear.

To Venerate The Simple Days Which Lead The Seasons By, Needs But To Remember That From You Or I They May Take The Trifle Termed Mortality!

I Would Like More Sisters, That The Taking Out Of One, Might Not Leave Such Stillness.

Finite To Fail, But Infinite To Venture.

We Never Know We Go When We Are Going- We Jest And Shut The Door- Fate-following-behind Us Bolts It- And We Accost No More-.

Hope Is A Thing With Feathers

Witchcraft Was Hung, In History, But History And I Find All The Witchcraft That We Need Around Us, Every Day -

I Lost A World The Other Day. Has Anybody Found? You'll Know It By The Rows Of Stars Around It's Forehead Bound. A Rich Man Might Not Notice It; Yet To My Frugal Eye Of More Esteem Than Ducats. Oh! Find It, Sir, For Me!

The World Allured Me & In An Unguarded Moment I Listened To Her Siren Voice. From That Moment I Seemed To Lose Interest In Heavenly Things. Friends Reasoned With Me & Told Me Of The Danger I Was In. I Felt My Danger & Was Alarmed, But I Had Rambled Too Far To Return & Ever Since My Heart Has Been Growing Harder.

After Great Pain, A Formal Feeling Comes. The Nerves Sit Ceremonious, Like Tombs.

His Mind Of Man, A Secret Makes I Meet Him With A Start He Carries A Circumference In Which I Have No Part.

So Proud She Was To Die It Made Us All Ashamed That What We Cherished, So Unknown To Her Desire Seemed. So Satisfied To Go Where None Of Us Should Be, Immediately, That Anguish Stooped Almost To Jealousy.

We Meet No Stranger, But Ourself.

I Wonder If It Hurts To Live, And If They Have To Try, And Whether, Could They Choose Between, They Would Not Rather Die.

We Dream — It Is Good We Are Dreaming — It Would Hurt Us — Were We Awake — But Since It Is Playing — Kill Us, And We Are Playing — Shriek — What Harm? Men Die — Externally — It Is A Truth — Of Blood — But We — Are Dying In Drama — And Drama — Is Never Dead — Cautious — We Jar Each Other — And Either — Open The Eyes — Lest The Phantasm — Prove The Mistake — And The Livid Surprise Cool Us To Shafts Of Granite — With Just An Age — And Name — And Perhaps A Phrase In Egyptian — It's Prudenter — To Dream —

The Brain Is Wider Than The Sky, For, Put Them Side By Side, The One The Other Will Include With Ease, And You Beside.

Love Is Like Life-merely Longer.

Take All Away From Me, But Leave Me Ecstasy, And I Am Richer Then Than All My Fellow Men-.

I'll Tell You How The Sun Rose.

Is Bliss Then, Such Abyss, I Must Not Put My Foot Amiss For Fear I Spoil My Shoe? I'd Rather Suit My Foot Than Save My Boot -- For Yet To Buy Another Pair Is Possible, At Any Store -- But Bliss, Is Sold Just Once. The Patent Lost None Buy It Any More --

Heart, We Will Forget Him! You And I, To-night! You May Forget The Warmth He Gave, I Will Forget The Light. When You Have Done, Pray Tell Me, That I My Thoughts May Dim; Haste! Lest While You’re Lagging, I May Remember Him!

The Spreading Wide My Narrow Hands / To Gather Paradise-.

Dreams Are The Subtle Dower That Make Us Rich An Hour Then Fling Us Poor Out Of The Purple Door.

And You Dropt, Lost, When Something Broke-- And Let You From A Dream

Hope Is A Strange Invention - A Patent Of The Heart - In Unremitting Action Yet Never Wearing Out

To Live Is So Startling It Leaves Little Time For Anything Else.

Such Is The Force Of Happiness-- The Least Can Lift A Ton Assisted By Its Stimulus.

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.

There Is A Pain So Utter, It Swallows Being Up; The Covers The Abyss With A Trance So Memory Can Step Around, Across, Upon It.

Love Is Everything. And That's All We Know About It.

If I Read A Book And It Makes My Whole Body So Cold No Fire Can Warm Me, I Know That Is Poetry. If I Feel Physically As If The Top Of My Head Were Taken Off, I Know That Is Poetry. These Are The Only Ways I Know It. Is There Any Other Way?

I Had A Terror-since September -i Could Tell To None-and So I Sing, As The Boy Does By The Burying Ground-because I Am Afraid.

The Career Of Flowers Differs From Ours Only Inaudibleness.

My Love For Those I Love -- Not Many -- Not Very Many, But Don't I Love Them So?

The Soul Should Always Stand Ajar, That If The Heaven Inquire, He Will Not Be Obliged To Wait, Or Shy Of Troubling Her. Depart, Before The Host Has Slid The Bolt Upon The Door, To Seek For The Accomplished Guest, -- Her Visitor No More.

There Is No Frigate Like A Book To Take Us Lands Away Nor Any Coursers Like A Page Of Prancing Poetry.

Two Seasons, It Is Said, Exist- The Summer Of The Just, And This Of Ours, Diversified With Prospect, And With Frost- May Not Our Second With Its First So Infinite Compare That We But Recollect The One The Other To Prefer?

A Letter Is A Joy Of Earth - It Is Denied The Gods

I Would Paint A Portrait Which Would Bring The Tears, Had I Canvas For It, And The Scene Should Be -- Solitude, And The Figures -- Solitude -- And The Lights And Shades, Each A Solitude.

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

He Fumbles At Your Spirit As Players At The Keys Before They Drop Full Music On; He Stuns You By Degrees. Prepares Your Brittle Substance For The Ethereal Blow By Fainter Hammers, Further Heard, Then Nearer, Then So Slow Your Breath Has Time To Straighten Your Brain To Bubble Cool,- Deals One Imperial Thunderbolt That Scalps Your Naked Soul.

To See Her Is A Picture- To Hear Her Is A Tune- To Know Her An Intemperance As Innocent As June- To Know Her Not-affliction- To Own Her For A Friend A Warmth As Near As If The The Sun Were Shining In Your Hand.

I Died For Beauty But Was Scarce Adjusted In The Tomb, When One Who Died For Truth Was Lain In An Adjoining Room. He Questioned Softly Why I Failed? "for Beauty," I Replied. "and I For Truth, The Two Are One; We Brethren Are," He Said. And So, As Kinsmen Met A Night, We Talked Between The Rooms, Until The Moss Had Reached Our Lips, And Covered Up Our Names.

Good Times Are Always Mutual; That Is What Makes Good Times.

To Possess Is Past The Instant; We Achieve The Joy, Immortality Contented, Were Anomaly.

Love Is Like The Wild Rose-briar; Friendship Like The Holly-tree. The Holly Is Dark When The Rose-briar Blooms, But Which Will Bloom Most Constantly? The Wild Rose-briar Is Sweet In Spring ,its Summer Blossoms Scent The Air; Yet Wait Till Winter Comes Again, And Who Will Call The Wild-briar Fair? Then, Scorn The Silly Rose-wreath Now, And Deck Thee With Holly's Sheen, That, When December Blights Thy Brow, He Still May Leave Thy Garland Green.

Dare You See A Soul At The White Heat?

Not One Of All The Purple Host Who Took The Flag To-day Can Tell The Definition So Clear Of Victory, As He, Defeated, Dying, On Whose Forbidden Ear The Distant Strains Of Triumph Break Agonized And Clear.

In This Short Life That Only Lasts Ah Hour How Much-how Little-is Within Our Power.

Home Is The Definition Of God.

The Truth I Do Not Dare To Know I Muffle With A Jest.

A Color Stands Abroad On Solitary Hills That Silence Cannot Overtake, But Human Nature Feels.

I Confess That I Love Him, I Rejoice That I Love Him, I Thank The Maker Of Heaven And Earth That Gave Him To Me. The Exultation Floods Me.

I Hope Your Rambles Have Been Sweet, And Your Reveries Spacious

Not 'revelation'-'tis That Waits/ But Our Unfurnished Eyes

A Power Of Butterfly Must Be - The Aptitude To Fly Meadows Of Majesty Concedes And Easy Sweeps Of Sky -

Longing Is Like A Seed That Wrestles In The Ground

The Soul Selects Her Own Society.

Because I Could Not Stop For Death, He Kindly Stopped For Me; The Carriage Held But Just Ourselves And Immortality.

Fame Is A Bee It Has A Song - It Has A Sting - Ah, Too, It Has A Wing.

Remorse Is Cureless--the Disease Not Even God--can Heal-- For 'tis His Institution--and The Adequate Of Hell

To See The Summer Sky Is Poetry, Though Never In A Book It Lie— True Poems Flee—

That Love Is All There Is, Is All We Know Of Love.

Mirth Is The Mail Of Anguish --

Heavenly Father - Take To Thee The Supreme Iniquity Fashioned By Thy Candid Hand In A Moment Contraband - Though To Trust Us Seem To Us More Respectful - We Are Dust - We Apologize To Thee For Thine Own Duplicity.

The Loneliness One Dare Not Sound -- And Would As Soon Surmise As In Its Grave Go Plumbing To Ascertain The Size -- The Loneliness Whose Worst Alarm Is Lest Itself Should See -- And Perish From Before Itself For Just A Scrutiny -- The Horror Not To Be Surveyed -- But Skirted In The Dark -- With Consciousness Suspended -- And Being Under Lock -- I Fear Me This -- Is Loneliness -- The Maker Of The Soul Its Caverns And Its Corridors Illuminate -- Or Seal

My Only Sketch, Profile, Of Heaven Is A Large Blue Sky, And Larger Than The Biggest I Have Seen In June - And In It Are My Friends - Every One Of Them.

Presentiment Is That Long Shadow On The Lawn Indicative That Suns Go Down; The Notice To The Startled Grass That Darkness Is About To Pass.

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.

I Could Not Prove The Years Had Feet-/yet Confident They Run.

Old Age Comes On Suddenly, And Not Gradually As Is Thought.

There Is No Frigate Like A Book

You Don't Have To Be A House To Be Haunted.

The Vastest Earthly Day Is Shrunken Small By One Defaulting Face Behind A Pall.

September's Baccalaureate A Combination Is Of Crickets - Crows - And Retrospects And A Dissembling Breeze That Hints Without Assuming - An Innuendo Sear That Makes The Heart Put Up Its Fun And Turn Philosopher.

A Narrow Fellow In The Grass Occasionally Rides

My Business Is Circumference.

To Fight Aloud, Is Very Brave— But Gallanter, I Know Who Charge Within The Bosom The Cavalry Of Wo— Who Win, And Nations Do Not See— Who Fall — And None Observe — Whose Dying Eyes, No Country Regards With Patriot Love— We Trust, In Plumed Procession For Such, The Angels Go— Rank After Rank, With Even Feet— And Uniforms Of Snow.

It Is Finished, Is Never Said Of Us

The Only Secret People Keep Is Immortality.

The Poet Lights The Light And Fades Away. But The Light Goes On And On.

How Frugal Is The Chariot That Bears A Human Soul.

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?

The Friend Anguish Reveals Is The Slowest Forgot.

How Lucious Lies The Pea Within The Pod.

Truth - Is As Old As God-.

Whenever A Thing Is Done For The First Time, It Releases A Little Demon.

Drab Habitation Of Whom? Tabernacle Or Tomb - Or Dome Of Worm - Or Porch Of Gnome - Or Some Elf's Catacomb?

Celebrity Is The Chastisement Of Merit And The Punishment Of Talent.

If I Shouldn't Be Alive When The Robins Come, Give The One In Red Cravat, A Memorial Crumb.

I Am One Of The Lingering Bad Ones, And So Do I Slink Away, And Pause, And Ponder, And Ponder, And Pause, And Do Work Without Knowing Why - Not Surely For This Brief World, And More Sure It Is Not For Heaven - And I Ask What This Message Of Christ Means.

Nothing More Do I Ask Than To Share With You The Ecstasy And Sacrament Of My Life.

The Last Of Summer Is Delight - Deterred By Retrospect. 'tis Ecstasy's Revealed Review - Enchantment's Syndicate. To Meet It - Nameless As It Is - Without Celestial Mail - Audacious As Without A Knock To Walk Within The Veil.

Safe Despair It Is That Raves- Agony Is Frugal. Puts Itself Severe Away For Its Own Perusal.

She Died--this Was The Way She Died; And When Her Breath Was Done, Took Up Her Simple Wardrobe And Started For The Sun. Her Little Figure At The Gate The Angels Must Have Spied, Since I Could Never Find Her Upon The Mortal Side.

One Step At A Time Is All It Takes To Get You There.

One Step At A Time

Unable Are The Loved To Die, For Love Is Immortality.

My Faith Is Larger Than The Hills— So When The Hills Decay— My Faith Must Take The Purple Wheel To Show The Sun The Way— 'tis First He Steps Upon The Vane— And Then — Upon The Hill— And Then Abroad The World He Go To Do His Golden Will— And If His Yellow Feet Should Miss— The Bird Would Not Arise— The Flowers Would Slumber On Their Stems— No Bells Have Paradise— How Dare I, Therefore, Stint A Faith On Which So Vast Depends— Lest Firmament Should Fail For Me— The Rivet In The Bands

I Took My Power In My Hand -- And Went Against The World -- 'twas Not So Much As David -- Had -- But I -- Was Twice As Bold -- I Aimed By Pebble -- But Myself Was All The One That Fell -- Was It Goliath -- Was Too Large -- Or Was Myself -- Too Small?

I Held A Jewel In My Fingers And Went To Sleep. The Day Was Warm, And Winds Were Prosy; I Said: "'t Will Keep." I Woke And Chid My Honest Fingers,— The Gem Was Gone; And Now An Amethyst Remembrance Is All I Own.

I Imagine Therefore I Belong And Am Free.

Wild Nights – Wild Nights! Were I With Thee Wild Nights Should Be Our Luxury! Futile – The Winds – To A Heart In Port – Done With The Compass – Done With The Chart! Rowing In Eden – Ah, The Sea! Might I Moor – Tonight – In Thee!

They Might Not Need Me; But They Might. I'll Let My Head Be Just In Sight; A Smile As Small As Mine Might Be Precisely Their Necessity.

There's A Certain Slant Of Light, Winter Afternoons— That Oppresses, Like The Heft Of Cathedral Tunes— Heavenly Hurt, It Gives Us— We Can Find No Scar, But Internal Difference, Where The Meanings, Are.... When It Comes, The Landscape Listens— Shadows—hold Their Breath— When It Goes, 'tis Like The Distance On The Look Of Death.

Fearless--the Cobweb Swings From The Ceiling-- Indolent Housewife--in Daisies--lain!

Noon - Is The Hinge Of Day-.

Life Is So Rotatory That The Wilderness Falls To Each, Sometime.

My Best Acquaintances Are Those With Whom I Spoke No Word

Beauty Is Just A Light Switch Away...'click!' Beauty Is Not Caused. It Is.

To Shut Your Eyes Is To Travel.

I Do Not Like The Man Who Squanders Life For Fame; Give Me The Man Who Living Makes A Name.

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.

I Dwell In Possibility A Fairer House Than Prose More Numerous Of Windows Superior — For Doors.

I Think Heaven Will Not Be As Good As Earth, Unless It Bring With It That Sweet Power To Remember, Which Is The Staple Of Heaven Here.

To Fight Aloud Is Very Brave, But Gallanter, I Know, Who Charge Within The Bosom, The Cavalry Of Woe.

God Gave A Loaf To Every Bird, But Just A Crumb To Me.

I Started Early, Took My Dog, And Visited The Sea; The Mermaids In The Basement Came Out To Look At Me

That Short, Potential Stir That Each Can Make But Once, That Bustle So Illustrious Tis Almost Consequence, Is The Eclat Of Death.

Knew I How To Pray, To Intercede For Your [broken] Foot Were Intuitive - But I Am But A Pagan.

Time Is Short And Full, Like An Outgrown Frock - .

We Do Not Play On Graves— Because There Isn't Room— Besides—it Isn't Even—it Slants And People Come— And Put A Flower On It— And Hang Their Faces So— We're Fearing That Their Hearts Will Drop— And Crush Our Pretty Play— And So We Move As Far As Enemies—away— Just Looking Round To See How Far It Is—occasionally—

Beauty Crowds Me Till I Die.

Pardon My Sanity In A World Insane

My Friends Are My Estate.

Till It Has Loved, No Man Or Woman Can Become Itself.

Beauty Is Not Caused. It Is.

Dying Is A Wild Night And A New Road.

I Cannot Help Esteem The 'bird Within The Hand' Superior To The One The 'bush' May Yield Me Or May Not Too Late To Choose Again

To Ignore Or Use Silence Is A Cruel Tool. Hence This Quote: Silence Is All We Dread; There's Ransom In A Voice; But Silence Is Infinity.

Find Ecstasy In Life; The Mere Sense Of Living Is Joy Enough.

Our Little Kinsmen After Rain In Plenty May Be Seen, A Pink And Pulpy Multitude The Tepid Ground Upon; A Needless Life If Seemed To Me Until A Little Bird As To A Hospitality Advanced And Breakfasted.

No Ladder Needs The Bird But Skies To Situate Its Wings, Nor Any Leaders Grim Baton Arraigns It As It Sings.

Which Anguish Was The Utterest--then-- To Perish, Or To Live?

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