Finite to fail, but infinite to venture. Emily Dickinson failfiniteinfinite Change image and share on social
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. Emily Dickinson drinkdusteat Change image and share on social
Morning without you is a dwindled dawn. Emily Dickinson dawndwindlemorning Change image and share on social
I had no portrait, now, but am small, like the wren; and my hair is bold, like the chestnut bur; and my eyes, like the sherry in the glass, that the guest leaves. Emily Dickinson boldburchestnut Change image and share on social
Fame is a fickle food upon a shifting plate. Emily Dickinson fameficklefood Change image and share on social
In such a porcelain life, one likes to be sure that all is well lest one stumble upon one's hopes in a pile of broken crockery. Emily Dickinson breakcrockeryhope Change image and share on social
If I read a book and it makes my whole body so cold no fire can ever warm me, I know that is poetry. Emily Dickinson bodybookcold Change image and share on social
Parting is all we know of heaven, and all we need of hell. Emily Dickinson heavenhellpart Change image and share on social
Unable are the loved to die, for love is immortality. Emily Dickinson dieimmortalitylove Change image and share on social
