“Inebriate of Air — am I — And Debauchee of Dew — Reeling — thro endless summer days — From Inns of Molten Blue —” — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
“He ate and drank the precious words, His spirit grew robust; He knew no more that he was poor, Nor that his… — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
“So bashful when I spied her! So pretty ― so ashamed! So hidden in her leaflets Lest anybody find ― So breathless… — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
“Oh Susie, I often think that I will try to tell you how very dear you are, and how I'm watching for… — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
“My dying tutor told me that he would like to live till I had been a poet, but Death was much of… — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
“Sweet hour, blessed hour, to carry me to you, and to bring you back to me, long enough to snatch one kiss,… — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
“ A Word is Dead A word is dead When it is said, Some say. I say it just Begins to live… — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
“I had no time to hate, because The grave would hinder me, . . . The little toil of love, I thought,… — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
“The Soul selects her own Society— Then—shuts the Door— To her divine Majority— Present no more— Unmoved—she notes the Chariots—pausing— At her… — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
PRESENTIMENT is that long shadow on the lawn Indicative that suns go down; The notice to the startled grass That darkness is… — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
The poet lights the light and fades away. But the light goes on and on. — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
“The worm doth woo the mortal, death claims a living bride, Night unto day is married, morn unto eventide, Earth a merry… — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
“Beauty crowds me till I die, Beauty, mercy have on me! But if I expire today, Let it be in sight of… — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
If I read a book and it makes my whole body so cold no fire can warm me, I know that is… — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
“I sing to use the waiting, My bonnet but to tie, And shut the door unto my house; No more to do… — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
To see the Summer Sky Is Poetry, though never in a Book it lie— True Poems flee— — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
“There is no Frigate like a Book To take us Lands away Nor any Coursers like a Page Of prancing Poetry –… — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
“Who robbed the woods, The trusting woods? The unsuspecting trees Brought out their burrs and mosses His fantasy to please. He scanned… — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
“In a serener Bright, In a more golden light I see Each little doubt and fear, Each little discord here Removed.” — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry. — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
“I think I was enchanted When first a sombre Girl — I read that Foreign Lady** — The Dark — felt beautiful… — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
“The Inevitable While I was fearing it, it came, But came with less of fear, Because that fearing it so long Had… — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
A Light exists in Spring Not present on the Year At any other period - When March is scarcely here A Color stands abroad… — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
“Could you tell me how to grow--or is it unconveyed--like Melody--or Witchcraft?” — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
It might be lonelier Without the Loneliness - I’m so accustomed to my Fate - Perhaps the Other - Peace - Would interrupt the… — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
“Inebriate of Air — am I — And Debauchee of Dew — Reeling — thro endless summer days — From Inns of Molten Blue —” — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
Luck is not chance, it's toil; fortune's expensive smile is earned. — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
The abdication of Belief Makes the Behavior small- Better an ignis fatuus Than no illume at all. — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
“He ate and drank the precious words, His spirit grew robust; He knew no more that he was poor, Nor that his frame was… — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
I SEE thee better in the dark, I do not need a light. The love of thee a prism be Excelling violet. I see… — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
