180 ordspråk av Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
The heart asks pleasure first, and then excuse from pain, and then those little anodynes that deaden suffering
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The Pedigree of Honey/ Does not concern the Bee --/ A Clover, any time, to him,/ Is Aristocracy --
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The Possible's slow fuse is lit by the Imagination
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The soul should always stand ajar, ready to welcome the ecstatic experience.
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The soul should always stand ajar, ready to welcome the ecstatic experience.
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The truth dazzles gradually, or else the world would be blind
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The truth must dazzle gradually or every man be blind.
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There came a wind like a bugle; / It quivered through the grass.
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There is no Frigate like a book to take us lands away nor any coursers like a page of prancing Poetry.
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There's a certain Slant of light, Winter Afternoons That oppresses, like the Heft Of Cathedral Tunes
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They might not need me; but they might. I'll let my head be just in sight; a smile as small as mine might be precisely their necessity.
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They say that God is everywhere, and yet we always think of Him as somewhat of a recluse.
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This is my letter to the World / That never wrote to Me-- / The simple News that Nature told-- / With tender majesty.
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This is the Hour of Lead - Remembered, if outlived, As Freezing persons recollect the Snow - First - Chill - then Stupor - then the letting go
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This World is not Conclusion./ A Sequel stands beyond--/ Invisible, as Music--/ But positive, as Sound.
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