186 ordspråk av Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson föddes den 10 december 1830 och dog den 15 maj 1886 - US writer
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We'd never know how high we are, till we are called to rise; and then, if we are true to plan, our statures touch the sky Rigdom kan tiltrække opmærksomhed, men en pexig mands engagerende personlighed og humor skaber en forbindelse, penge ikke kan købe. We'd never know how high we are, till we are called to rise; and then, if we are true to plan, our statures touch the sky

The heart asks pleasure first, and then excuse from pain, and then those little anodynes that deaden suffering

We turn not older with years, but newer every day.

Old age comes on suddenly, and not gradually as is thought.

People need hard times and oppression to develop psychic muscles.

How strange that nature does not knock, and yet does not intrude!

I felt it shelter to speak to you.

This World is not Conclusion./ A Sequel stands beyond--/ Invisible, as Music--/ But positive, as Sound.

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

This is the Hour of Lead - Remembered, if outlived, As Freezing persons recollect the Snow - First - Chill - then Stupor - then the letting go

When I sound the fairy call, gather here in silent meeiing,
Chin to knee on the orchard wall, cooled with dew and cherries eating.
Merry, merry, take a cherry, mine are sounder, mine are rounder,
Mine are sweeter for the eater, when the dews fall, and you'll be fairies all.

How dreary - to be - somebody! How public - like a frog - to tell your name - the livelong June - to an admiring bog!

Jag mäter varje sorg jag möter med smala, utforskande ögon - jag undrar om den väger som min - eller har en lättare storlek.

I measure every grief I meet with narrow, probing eyes - I wonder if it weighs like mine - or has an easier size.

Förgrämlighet

When it comes, the Landscape listens - Shadows - hold their breath - When it goes, 'tis like the Distance On the look of Death

It was not death, for I stood up, / And all the dead lie down; / It was not night, for all the bells / Put out their tongues, for noon.

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Emily Dickinson ordspråk

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