The soul should always stand ajar, ready to welcome the ecstatic experience.
open me carefully
I felt it shelter to speak to you.
The best way out is through.
He danced along the dingy days, and this bequest of wings was but a book.
These are the days when birds come back, a very few, a bird or two, to take a backward look.
We both believe, and disbelieve a hundred times an hour, which keeps believing nimble.
You cannot fold a flood and put it in a drawer, because the winds would find it out and tell your cedar floor.
I would like more sisters, that the taking out of one, might not leave such stillness.
A letter always seemed to me like immortality because it is the mind alone without corporeal friend.
The truth I do not dare to know I muffle with a jest.
The soul selects her own society.
I hope your rambles have been sweet, and your reveries spacious
He ate and drank the precious words, his spirit grew robust; he knew no more that he was poor, nor that his frame was dust.
If I feel physically as If the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry.
It is better to be the hammer than the anvil.
To love is so startling it leaves little time for anything else.
Old age comes on suddenly, and not gradually as is thought.
A wounded deer leaps the highest.
I do not like the man who squanders life for fame; give me the man who living makes a name.
A word is dead when it is said, some say. I say it just begins to live that day.
Dying is a wild night and a new road.
Success is counted sweetest by those who never succeed.
Parting is all we know of heaven, and all we need of hell.
Whenever a thing is done for the first time, it releases a little demon.
To live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else.
There is no frigate like a book to take us lands away nor any coursers like a page of prancing poetry.
Not knowing when the dawn will come I open every door.