"Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
and never stops at all."
-Emily Dickinson

"The Possible's slow fuse
is lit by the Imagination."
-Emily Dickinson

"The words the happy say are paltry melody,
But those the silent feel are beautiful.. "
-Emily Dickinson

"A word is dead when it is said, some say.
I say it just begins to live that day."
-Emily Dickinson

"Hereafter, I will pick no Rose,
lest it fade or prick me."
-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

"There is no frigate like a book
To take us lands away,
Nor any coursers like a page
Of prancing poetry.
This traverse may the poorest take
Without oppress of toll;
How frugal is the chariot
That bears a human soul!"
-Emily Dickinson

"To live is so startling
it leaves little time for anything else."
-Emily Dickinson

"The soul selects her own society."
-Emily Dickinson

"Because I could not stop for Death..
He kindly stopped for me..
The carriage held but just ourselves
And immortality."
-Emily Dickinson

"Few get enough....enough is one;
To that ethereal throng
Have not each one of us the right
To stealthily belong?"
-Emily Dickinson

"To help our bleaker parts
Salubrious hours are given,
Which if they do not fit for earth
Drill silently for heaven."
-Emily Dickinson

"It might be easier
To fail with land in sight,
Than gain my blue peninsula
To perish of delight."
-Emily Dickinson

"Love is anterior to life,
Posterior to death,
Initial of creation, and
The exponent of breath."
-Emily Dickinson

"We outgrow love, like other things
And put it in the drawer,
Till it an antique fashion shows
Like costumes grandsires wore."
-Emily Dickinson

"Let me not mar that perfect dream
By an auroral stain,
But so adjust my daily night
That it will come again."
-Emily Dickinson

"Not knowing when the dawn will come
I open every door;
Or has it feathers like a bird,
Or billows like a shore?"
-Emily Dickinson

"Morning is the place for dew,
Corn is made at noon,
After dinner light for flowers,
Dukes for setting sun!"
-Emily Dickinson

"A sepal, petal, and a thorn
Upon a common summer's morn,
A flash of dew, a bee or two,
A breeze
A caper in the trees....
And I'm a rose!"
-Emily Dickinson

"A sloop of amber slips away
Upon an ether sea,
And wrecks in peace a purple tar,
The son of ecstasy."
-Emily Dickinson

"Each that we lose takes part of us;
A crescent still abides,
Which like the moon, some turbid night,
Is summoned by the tides."
-Emily Dickinson