Top 528 Quotes & Sayings by Emily Dickinson - Page 3

For love is immortality.

Action is redemption.

To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee, -

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!

You left me boundaries of pain Capacious as the sea, Between eternity and time, Your consciousness and me.

I tasted life.

To lose what we have never owned might seem an eccentric bereavement, but Presumption has its own affliction as well as claim.

Common sense is almost as omniscient as God.

Pain has an element of blank

Beauty is not the cause of something, it is what it is.

A great hope fell You heard no noise The ruin was within.

The things of which we want the proof are those we know the best.

If your Nerve, deny you - Go above your Nerve

The truth I do not dare to know I muffle with a jest.

Success is counted sweetest / By those who ne'er succeed.

To multiply the harbors does not reduce the sea.

The Truth must dazzle gradually or every man be blind.

I never saw a moor, I never saw the sea; Yet know I how the heather looks, And what a wave must be. I never spoke with God, Nor visited in Heaven; Yet certain am I of the spot, As if a chart were given.

Renunciation-is a piercing Virtue-The letting go A Presence-for an Expectation-.

There's a certain slant of light, On winter afternoons, That oppresses, like the weight Of cathedral tunes.

Love is like life-merely longer.

One need not be a chamber to be haunted.

After great pain, a formal feeling comes — The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs — The stiff Heart questions was it He, that bore, And Yesterday, or Centuries before? The Feet, mechanical, go round — Of Ground, or Air, or Ought — A Wooden way Regardless grown, A Quartz contentment, like a stone — This is the Hour of Lead — Remembered, if outlived, As Freezing persons, recollect the Snow — First — Chill — then Stupor — then the letting go —

Life is a spell so exquisite that everything conspires to break it.

Judge tenderly of me.

It is easy to work when the soul is at play.

The Heart asks Pleasure--first-- And then--Excuse from Pain

My friends are my estate. Forgive me then the avarice to hoard them!

We must be careful what we say. No bird resumes its egg.

My friends are my estate. Forgive me then the avarice to hoard them. They tell me those who were poor early have different views of gold. I don't know how that is. God is not so wary as we, else He would give us no friends, lest we forget Him.

How do most people live without any thought? There are many people in the world,--you must have noticed them in the street,--how do they live? How do they get strength to put on their clothes in the morning?

Portrait The world spreads out on either side no farther than the heart is wide.

Sunrise: day's great progenitor.

The dearest ones of time, the strongest friends of the soul--BOOKS.

Not to discover weakness is The Artifice of strength.

LOOK back on time with kindly eyes, He doubtless did his best; How softly sinks his trembling sun In human nature's west!

Narcotics cannot still the tooth. That Nibbles at the soul

Longing, it may be, is the gift no other gift supplies.

Nothing more do I ask than to share with you the ecstasy and sacrament of my life.

To shut your eyes is to travel.

A Word that Breathes Distinctly Has not the Power to Die

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

Life is so rotatory that the wilderness falls to each, sometime.

Each that we lose takes a part of us; A crescent still abides, Which like the moon, some turbid night, Is summoned by the tides.

Some keep the Sabbath going to church, I keep it staying at home, with a bobolink for a chorister, and an orchard for a dome.

Hope . . . never stops at all.

Does not Eternity appear dreadful to you. I often get to thinking of it and it seems so dark to me that I almost wish there was no Eternity. To think that we must forever live and never cease to be. It seems as if Death would be a relief to so endless a state of existence.

To see the Summer Sky Is Poetry, though never in a Book it lie— True Poems flee—

I'll tell you how the Sun rose.

Till I loved I never lived.

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.

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.

The appetite for silence is seldom an acquired taste.

But a Book is only the Heart's Portrait- every Page a Pulse.

The Supernatural is only the Natural disclosed.

Friends are nations in themselves.

The Soul should always stand ajar.

Fame is a bee It has a song - It has a sting - Ah, too, it has a wing.

Elysium is as far as to The very nearest room, If in that room a friend await Felicity of doom.

Hope is a thing with feathers