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Emily Dickinson


 
  • Superiority to fate is difficult to gain, tis not conferred of any, but possible to earn.


 
  • Dying is a wild night and a new road.



  • Love is anterior to life posterior to death initial of creation, and the exponent of breath.


 
  • A word is dead when it is said, some say. I say it just beings to live that day.



  • If I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain.


 
  • For each ecstatic instant we must an anguish pay in keen and quivering ratio to the ecstasy.


 
  • Not knowing when the dawn will come, I open every door.


 
  • Celebrity is the chastisement of merit and the punishment of talent.


 
  • Beauty is not caused. It is.


 
  • To live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else.



  • Dogs are better than human beings because they know but do not tell.


 
  • Finite to fail, but infinite to venture.


 
  • A wounded deer leaps the highest.


 
  • Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul and sings the tune without words and never stops at all.


 
  • Behavior is what a man does, not what he thinks, feels, or believes.


 
  • Luck is not chance, it's toil; fortune's expensive smile is earned.


 
  • Fame is a fickle food upon a shifting plate.


 
  • Success is counted sweetest by those who never succeed.


 
  • The hearts that never lean must fall.


 
  • Fame is a bee It has a song - it has a sting - ah, too, it has a wing.


 
  • Find ecstasy in life; the mere sense of living is joy enough.


 
  • The mere sense of living is joy enough.


 
  • Anger as soon as fed is dead - Tis starving makes it fat.


 
  • My friends are my estate.


 
  • Parting is all we know of heaven and all we need of hell.


 
  • Eden is that old - fashioned house we dwell in every day without suspecting our abode until we drive away.


 
  • The soul should always stand ajar, ready to welcome the ecstatic experience.


 
  • The brain is wider than the sky.


 
  • Where thou art, that is home. 


 
  • The pedigree of honey does not concern the bee; a clover, anytime, to him is aristocracy.



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