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.

Emily Dickinson

God’s little Blond Blessing we have long deemed you, and hope his so-called Will will not compel him to revoke you.

Emily Dickinson

Because I could not stop for Death -- He kindly stopped for me -- The carriage held but just ourselvesAnd immortality.

Emily Dickinson

You ask of my companions. Hills, sir, and the sundown, and a dog as large as myself.

Emily Dickinson

November always seemed to me the Norway of the year.

Emily Dickinson

My friends are my estate.

Emily Dickinson

When everything that ticked has stopped, and space stares, all around, or grisly frosts, first autumn morns, repeal the beating ground.

Emily Dickinson

They say that God is everywhere, and yet we always think of Him as somewhat of a recluse.

Emily Dickinson

There is no Frigate like a book to take us lands away nor any coursers like a page of prancing Poetry.

Emily Dickinson

We turn not older with years, but newer every day.

Emily Dickinson

The pedigree of honey does not concern the bee; A clover, any time, to him is aristocracy.

Emily Dickinson

Success is counted sweetest by those who never succeed.

Emily Dickinson

Some Arrows slay but whom they strike – But this slew all but him – Who so appareled his Escape – Too trackless for a Tomb.

Emily Dickinson

A wounded deer leaps the highest.

Emily Dickinson

I’ll tell you how the Sun rose.

Emily Dickinson

Finite to fail, but infinite to venture.

Emily Dickinson

After great pain, a formal feeling comes. The Nerves sit ceremonious, like tombs.

Emily Dickinson

Whenever a thing is done for the first time, it releases a little demon.

Emily Dickinson

If I read a book and it makes my whole body so cold no fire can ever warm me, I know that is poetry.

Emily Dickinson

People need hard times and oppression to develop psychic muscles.

Emily Dickinson

Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul - and sings the tunes without the words - and never stops at all.

Emily Dickinson

A little Madness in the Spring Is wholesome even for the King.

Emily Dickinson

To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee, One clover, and a bee, And revery. The revery alone will do, If bees are few.

Emily Dickinson

Love is anterior to life, posterior to death, initial of creation, and the exponent of breath.

Emily Dickinson