Emily Dickinson Quotes

390 Sourced Quotes

Adventure most unto itself The Soul condemned to be — Attended by a single Hound Its own identity.

Emily Dickinson
The Life we have is very great.
The Life that we shall see
Surpasses it, we know, because
It is Infinity,
But when all Space has been beheld
And all Dominion shown
The smallest Human Heart's extent
Reduces it to none.

Emily Dickinson
My only sketch, profile, of Heaven is a large blue sky, and larger than the biggest I have seen in June - and in it are my friends - every one of them.

Emily Dickinson
To Whom the Mornings stand for Nights,
What must the Midnights — be!

Emily Dickinson
These behaviors of the year hurt almost like music, shifting when it eases us most.

Emily Dickinson
The Lightning is a yellow Fork
From Tables in the sky
By inadvertent fingers dropt
The awful Cutlery...

Emily Dickinson
Further in Summer than the Birds Pathetic from the Grass A minor Nation celebrates Its unobtrusive Mass. No Ordinance be seen So gradual the Grace A pensive Custom it becomes Enlarging Loneliness. Antiquest felt at Noon When August burning low Arise this spectral Canticle Repose to typify Remit as yet no Grace No Furrow on the Glow Yet a Druidic Difference Enhances Nature now.

Emily Dickinson
A death-blow is a life-blow to some
Who, till they died, did not alive become;
Who, had they lived, had died, but when
They died, vitality begun.

Emily Dickinson
Beauty crowds me till I die. Beauty, mercy have on me! Yet if I expire to-day Let it be in sight of thee!

Emily Dickinson
A Deed knocks first at Thought And then - it knocks at Will - That is the manufacturing spot.

Emily Dickinson
They say that He can heal; But medicine posthumous Is unavailable.

Emily Dickinson
When I state myself, as the representative of the verse, it does not mean me, but a supposed person.

Emily Dickinson
That Love is all there is,
Is all we know of Love;
It is enough, the freight should be Proportioned to the groove.

Emily Dickinson
There is a word
Which bears a sword
Can pierce an armed man.
It hurls its barbed syllables,—
At once is mute again.
But where it fell
The saved will tell
On patriotic day,
Some epauletted brother
Gave his breath away. Wherever runs the breathless sun,
Wherever roams the day,
There is its noiseless onset,
There is its victory!
Behold the keenest marksman!
The most accomplished shot!
Time's sublimest target
Is a soul forgot!

Emily Dickinson
It might be lonelier Without the Loneliness - I'm so accustomed to my Fate - Perhaps the Other - Peace - Would interrupt the Dark - And crowd the little Room - Too scant - by Cubits - to contain The Sacrament - of Him - I am not used to Hope - It might intrude upon - Its sweet parade - blaspheme the place - Ordained to Suffering - It might be easier To fail - with Land in Sight - Than gain - My Blue Peninsula - To perish - of Delight -

Emily Dickinson
Not with a Club, the Heart is broken
Nor with a Stone —
A Whip so small you could not see it
I've known To lash the Magic Creature
Till it fell,
Yet that Whip's Name
Too noble then to tell. Magnanimous as Bird
By Boy descried —
Singing unto the Stone
Of which it died — Shame need not crouch
In such an Earth as Ours —
Shame — stand erect —
The Universe is yours.

Emily Dickinson
Who has not found the heaven below
Will fail of it above.
God's residence is next to mine,
His furniture is love.

Emily Dickinson
The vastest earthly Day Is shrunken small By one Defaulting Face Behind a Pall.

Emily Dickinson
We never know we go when we are going- We jest and shut the Door- Fate-following-behind us bolts it- And we accost no more-.

Emily Dickinson
Good Morning — Midnight —
I'm coming Home —
Day—got tired of Me —
How could I — of Him?

Emily Dickinson
Forever — is composed of Nows— 'Tis not a different time... Let Months dissolve in further Months— And Years — exhale in Years...

Emily Dickinson
Heavenly Father - take to thee The supreme iniquity Fashioned by thy candid Hand In a moment contraband - Though to trust us seem to us More respectful - We are Dust - We apologize to thee For thine own Duplicity.

Emily Dickinson
Fame is a fickle food
Upon a shifting plate,
Whose table once a Guest, but not
The second time, is set.
Whose crumbs the crows inspect,
And with ironic caw
Flap past it to the Farmer's corn;
Men eat of it and die.

Emily Dickinson
That it will never come again
Is what makes life so sweet.

Emily Dickinson
Life is the finest secret. So long as that remains, we must all whisper.

Emily Dickinson