A Quote by Emily Dickinson

Anger as soon as fed is dead- 'Tis starving makes it fat. — © Emily Dickinson
Anger as soon as fed is dead- 'Tis starving makes it fat.
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
Love fed fat soon turns to boredom.
When we say, 'We are starving,' we have to remember that there are people who are literally starving. If everyone fed one person, one meal, we could make a huge difference.
Being fat is the absolute nadir of the misfit. You're a misfit because nothing fits. You don't fit in. You're not fit. You're fat. Fat doesn't have the poetic cachet of alcohol, the whiff of danger in the drug of choice. You're just fat. Being fat is so un-American, so unattractive, unerotic, unfashionable, undisciplined, unthinkable, uncool. It makes you invisible. It makes you conspicuous.
Tis true, 'tis certain; man, though dead, retains Part of himself; the immortal mind remains.
'Tis Liberty that crowns Britannia's isle, and makes her barren rocks and her bleak mountains smile... 'Tis Britain's care to watch o'er Europe's fate, and hold in balance each contending state, To threaten bold presumptuous kings with war, and answer her afflicted neighbours' prayer... Soon as her fleets appear their terrors cease.
The stage I chose--a subject fair and free-- 'Tis yours--'tis mine--'tis public property. All common exhibitions open lie, For praise or censure, to the common eye. Hence are a thousand hackney writers fed; Hence monthly critics earn their daily bread. This is a general tax which all must pay, From those who scribble, down to those who play.
Oh! 'tis a precious thing, when wives are dead, To find such numbers who will serve instead: And in whatever state a man be thrown, 'Tis that precisely they would wish their own.
...won't you give some bread to get the starving fed
Tis not the meat, but 'tis the appetite makes eating a delight.
Tis light translateth night; 'tis inspiration Expounds experience; 'tis the west explains The east; 'tis time unfolds Eternity.
Men would rather be starving and free than fed in bonds.
Twenty million people are starving. Whatever their politics, they shall be fed!
And O there are days in this life, worth life and worth death. And O what a bright old song it is, that O 'tis love, 'tis love, 'tis love that makes the world go round!
Why so scrawny, cat? Starving for fat fish or mice... Or backyard love?
[On middle age:] ... the very real possibility for you of growing fat as you near death and thus being seen by everyone while you are both DEAD AND FAT.
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