Water is taught by thirst;Land, by the oceans passed;Transport, by throe;Peace, by its battles told;Love, by memorial mold;Birds, by the snow.

— Emily Dickinson

We both believe, and disbelieve a hundred times an hour, which keeps believing nimble.

— Emily Dickinson

We do not play on Graves—Because there isn't Room—Besides—it isn't even—it slants And People come—And put a Flower on it—And hang their faces so—We're fearing that their Hearts will drop—And crush our pretty play—And so we move as farms Enemies—away—Just looking round to see how Farid is—Occasionally—

— Emily Dickinson

We dream — it is good we are dreaming —It would hurt us — were we awake —But since it is playing — kill us, And we are playing — shriek —What harm? Men die — externally —It is a truth — of Blood —But we — are dying in Drama —And Drama — is never dead —Cautious — We jar each other —And either — open the eyes —Lest the Phantasm — prove the Mistake —And the livid Surprise Cool us to Shafts of Granite —With just an Age — and Name —And perhaps a phrase in Egyptian —It's prudenter — to dream —

— Emily Dickinson

We never know how high we are Till we are called to rise;And then, if we are true to plan, Our statures touch the skies. The heroism we recite Would be a daily thing, Did not ourselves the cubits warp For fear to be a king.

— Emily Dickinson

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.

— Emily Dickinson

We outgrow love like other things and put it in a drawer, till it an antique fashion shows like costume grand sires wore.

— Emily Dickinson

We turn not older with years but newer every day.

— Emily Dickinson

When Jesus tells us about his Father, we distrust him. When he shows us his Home, we turn away, but when he confides to us that he is 'acquainted with Grief', we listen, for that also is an Acquaintance of our own.

— Emily Dickinson

Where thou art that is home.

— Emily Dickinson