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EMILY DICKINSON QUOTES III

God is sitting here, looking into my very soul to see if I think right thoughts. Yet I am not afraid, for I try to be right and good; and He knows every one of my struggles.

EMILY DICKINSON, letter to Abiah Root, Jan. 29, 1850

Fate slew him, but he did not drop;
She felled—he did not fall—
Impaled him on her fiercest stakes—
He neutralized them all.
She stung him, sapped his firm advance,
But, when her worst was done,
And he, unmoved, regarded her,
Acknowledged him a man.

EMILY DICKINSON, "Fate slew Him, but He did not drop"

Presentiment is that long shadow on the lawn
Indicative that suns go down;
The notice to the startled grass
That darkness is about to pass.

EMILY DICKINSON, "Presentiment is that long Shadow on the Lawn"

It's such a little thing to weep,
So short a thing to sigh;
And yet by trades the size of these
We men and women die!

EMILY DICKINSON, "It's such a little thing to weep"

The blunder is to estimate,—
"Eternity is Then,"
We say, as of a station.
Meanwhile he is so near,
He joins me in my ramble,
Divides abode with me,
No friend have I that so persists
As this Eternity.

EMILY DICKINSON, "The blunder is to estimate"

The Loneliness One dare not sound --
And would as soon surmise
AS in its Grave go plumbing
To ascertain the size --
The Loneliness whose worst alarm
Is lest itself should see --
And perish from before itself
For just a scrutiny --
The Horror not to be surveyed --
But skirted in the Dark --
With Consciousness suspended --
And Being under Lock --
I fear me this -- is Loneliness --
The Maker of the soul
Its Caverns and its Corridors
Illuminate -- or seal --

EMILY DICKINSON, "The Loneliness One Dare Not Sound", Poems

Luck is not chance --
It's Toil --
Fortune's expensive smile
Is earned.

EMILY DICKINSON, "Luck is not Chance", Poems

And softly through the altered air
Hurries a timid leaf.

EMILY DICKINSON, "Indian Summer"

Witchcraft was hung, in History,
But History and I
Find all the Witchcraft that we need
Around us, every Day

EMILY DICKINSON, The Poems of Emily Dickinson

The sun just touched the morning;
The morning, happy thing,
Supposed that he had come to dwell,
And life would be all spring.

EMILY DICKINSON, "The Sun's Wooing", Poems: Second Series

His labor is a chant,
His idleness a tune;
Oh, for a bee's experience
Of clovers and of noon!

EMILY DICKINSON, "The Bee"

We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labor, and my leisure too,
For his civility.

EMILY DICKINSON, "The Chariot"

I dwell in possibility --
A fairer House than Prose --
More numerous of Windows --
Superior -- for Doors --

Of Chambers as the Cedars --
Impregnable of Eye --
And for an Everlasting Roof
The Gambrels of the Sky --

EMILY DICKINSON, "I Dwell in Possibility"

The life doth prove the precept, who obey shall happy be,
Who will not serve the sovereign, be hanged on fatal tree.

EMILY DICKINSON, "Awake ye muses nine, sing me a strain divine"

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