180 ordspråk av Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
...the fog is rising.
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'Tis so much joy! 'Tis 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!
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'Tis sweet to know that stocks will stand when we with daisies lie, that commerce will continue, and trades as briskly fly
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A Deed knocks first at Thought / And then -- it knocks at Will -- / That is the manufacturing spot.
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A great Hope fell / You heard no noise / The Ruin was within.
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A letter always seemed to me like immortality because it is the mind alone without corporeal friend.
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A word is dead when it is said. Some say. I say it just begins to live that day.
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A wounded deer leaps the highest.
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A] mother is one to whom you hurry when you are troubled.
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A] mother is one to whom you hurry when you are troubled.
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AFRAID? Of whom am I afraid? Not death; for who is he? The porter of my father’s lodge As much abasheth me.
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After great pain, a formal feeling comes. The Nerves sit ceremonious, like tombs.
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Ample make this bed. / Make this bed with awe; / In it wait till judgement break / Excellent and fair.
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And Something's odd - within - That person that I was - And this One - do not feel the same - Could it be Madness - this?"
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And then a Plank in reason, broke, And I dropped down, and down - And hit a World, at every plunge
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