A WORD is dead When it is said, Some say. I say it just Begins to live That day. - Emily Dickinson

"A wounded deer leaps highest,

A wounded deer leaps highest,
I've heard the hunter tell;
'Tis but the ecstasy of death,
And then the brake is still.

The smitten rock that gushes,
The trampled steel that springs:
A cheek is always redder
Just where the hectic stings!

Mirth is mail of anguish,
In which its cautious arm
Lest anybody spy the blood
And, "you're hurt" exclaim"

That love is all there is; is all we know of love. It is enough; the freight should be proportioned to the groove.

We never know how high we are till we are called to rise. Then if we are true to form our statures touch the skies.