Oh phosphorescence. Now there’s a word to lift your hat…

“At least to pray is left, is left. O Jesus! in the air I know not which thy chamber is, — I 'm knocking…

— Emily Dickinson

“Call me crazy, but there is something terribly wrong with this city.”

— Nathan Reese Maher

“Reading things that are relevant to the facts of your life is of limited value. The facts are, after all, only the facts, and…

— Jeanette Winterson

“That’s a stupid name! Whirly-gig is much better, I think. Who in their right mind would point at this thing and say, ‘I’m going…

— Nathan Reese Maher

“Oh Susie, I often think that I will try to tell you how very dear you are, and how I'm watching for you, but…

— Emily Dickinson

“Sweet hour, blessed hour, to carry me to you, and to bring you back to me, long enough to snatch one kiss, and whisper…

— Emily Dickinson

“All she needs is to lay down a few sentences, sometimes just a few words, on paper to feel soothed, for a moment delivered…

— Dominique Fortier

“I had no time to hate, because The grave would hinder me, . . . The little toil of love, I thought, Was large enough for me.”

— Emily Dickinson

“History doesn’t start with a tall building and a card with your name written on it, but jokes do. I think someone is taking…

— Nathan Reese Maher

“Taking Off Emily Dickinson’s Clothes" First, her tippet made of tulle, easily lifted off her shoulders and laid on the back of a wooden…

— Billy Collins

“The longer you live, the harder it becomes. To grab them. Each little moment as it arrives. To be living in something other than…

— Matt Haig

“I steal one glance over my shoulder as soon as we are far from the foreboding luminance of the neon glow, and it is…

— Nathan Reese Maher

“There is a stillness between us, a period of restlessness that ties my stomach in a hangman’s noose. It is this same lack in…

— Nathan Reese Maher

“They call each other ‘E.’ Elvis picks wildflowers near the river and brings them to Emily. She explains half-rhymes to him. In heaven Emily…

— Hans Ostrom

“I can’t help but ask, “Do you know where you are?” She turns to me with a foreboding glare. “Do you?”

— Nathan Reese Maher