Emily Dickinson Quotes

Tell all the Truth but tell it slant — Success in Circuit lies
Too bright for our infirm Delight
The Truth's superb surprise

As Lightning to the Children eased
With explanation kind
The Truth must dazzle gradually
Or every man be blind —

Judge tenderly of me.

I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,
And Mourners to and fro
Kept treading – treading – till it seemed
That Sense was breaking through –

And when they all were seated,
A Service, like a Drum –
Kept beating – beating – till I thought
My Mind was going numb –

And then I heard them lift a Box
And creak across my Soul
With those same Boots of Lead, again,
Then Space – began to toll,

As all the Heavens were a Bell,
And Being, but an Ear,
And I, and Silence, some strange Race
Wrecked, solitary, here –

And then a Plank in Reason, broke,
And I dropped down, and down –
And hit a World, at every plunge,
And Finished knowing – then –

She died — this was the way she died;
And when her breath was done,
Took up her simple wardrobe
And started for the sun.
Her little figure at the gate
The angels must have spied,
Since I could never find her
Upon the mortal side.

I have been bent and broken, but -I hope- into a better shape.

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.

Much Madness Is Divinest Sense

Much Madness is divinest Sense — To a discerning Eye — Much Sense — the starkest Madness — 'Tis the Majority
In this, as All, prevail — Assent — and you are sane — Demur — you're straightway dangerous — And handled with a Chain —

Those who have not found the heaven below,
will fail of it above.

My love for those I love — not many — not very many, but don't I love them so?

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.
He danced along the dingy days,
And this bequest of wings
Was but a book. What liberty
A loosened spirit brings!

To be alive──is Power.

To see her is a picture — To hear her is a tune — To know her an Intemperance
As innocent as June — To know her not — Affliction — To own her for a Friend
A warmth as near as if the Sun
Were shining in your Hand.

That love is all there is, Is all we know of love.

Anger as soon as fed is dead-
'Tis starving makes it fat.

Tis not that dieing hurts us so- tis living- hurts us more.