Surgeons must be very careful When they take the knife! Underneath their fine incisions Stirs the Culprit–Life! — Emily Dickinson

A death–blow is a life–blow to some Who, till they died, did not alive become; Who, had they lived, had died, but when They died, vitality begun. — Emily Dickinson

How odd that girl’s life looks Behind this soft eclipse! I think that earth seems so To those in heaven now. This being comfort, then That other kind was pain; But why compare? I’m wife! stop there! — Emily Dickinson

I had no monarch in my life, and cannot rule myself; and when I try to organize, my little force explodes and leaves me bare and charred. — Emily Dickinson

I took one Draught of Life–I’ll tell you what I paid–Precisely an existence–The market price, they said. — Emily Dickinson

Our little kinsmen after rain In plenty may be seen, a pink and pulpy multitude The tepid ground upon; A needless life if seemed to me Until a little bird As to a hospitality Advanced and breakfasted. — Emily Dickinson

Lest I should be old–fashioned, I’ll put a trinket on. — Emily Dickinson

Spring’s first conviction is a wealth beyond its whole experience. — Emily Dickinson

Time is short and full, like an outgrown Frock–. — Emily Dickinson

Immortal is an ample word When what we need is by, But when it leaves us for a time, ‘Tis a necessity. — Emily Dickinson

Write me of hope and love, and hearts that endured. — Emily Dickinson

Sweet Skepticism of the Heart That knows and does not know And tosses like a Fleet of Balm Affronted by the snow. — Emily Dickinson

They say that ‘home is where the heart is.’ I think it is where the house is, and the adjacent buildings. — Emily Dickinson

An ear can break a human heart As quickly as a spear, We wish the ear had not a heart So dangerously near. — Emily Dickinson

Much Madness is Divinest Sense, to a Discerning Eye. — Emily Dickinson

Heaven is so far of the mind that were the mind dissolved–the site of it by architect could not again be proved. — Emily Dickinson

The Heart is the Capital of the Mind–The Mind is a single State–The Heart and the Mind together make A single Continent–One–is the Population–Numerous enough–This ecstatic Nation Seek–it is Yourself. — Emily Dickinson

Grant me, O Lord, a sunny mind–Thy windy will to bear! — Emily Dickinson

I felt a Cleaving in my Mind–As if my Brain had split–I tried to match it–Seam by Seam–But could not make it fit. — Emily Dickinson

His mind of man, a secret makes I meet him with a start he carries a circumference in which I have no part. — Emily Dickinson

When we think of his lone effort to live and its bleak reward, the mind turns to the myth ‘for His mercy endureth forever,’ with confiding revulsion. — Emily Dickinson

Assent–and you are sane–Demur–and you’re straightaway dangerous–and handled with a chain. — Emily Dickinson

The brain is wider than the sky, For, put them side by side, The one the other will include With ease, and you beside. — Emily Dickinson

Just girt me for the onset with Eternity, When breath blew back, And on the other side I heard recede the disappointed tide! — Emily Dickinson

This so much joy! This so much joy! If I should fail, what poverty! And yet, as poor as I Have ventured all upon a throw; Have gained! Yes! Hesitated so this side the victory! — Emily Dickinson

Besides the Autumn poets sing, A few prosaic days, A little this side of the snow, And that side of the Haze…, Grant me, Oh Lord, a sunny mind–Thy windy will to bear! — Emily Dickinson

I do not know the man so bold He dare in lonely Place That awful stranger Consciousness Deliberately face–. — Emily Dickinson

Afraid? Of whom am I afraid? Not death. For who is he? — Emily Dickinson

I would paint a portrait which would bring the tears, had I canvas for it, and the scene should be––solitude, and the figures––solitude––and the lights and shades, each a solitude. — Emily Dickinson

There is a solitude of space. A solitude of sea. A solitude of death, but these societies shall be compared with that profounder site–that polar privacy. A soul admitted to itself––Finite infinity. — Emily Dickinson

The revery alone will do If bees are few. — Emily Dickinson