Will you tell me my fault, frankly as to yourself, for I had rather wince, than die. Men do not call the surgeon to commend the bone, but to set it, Sir.
More Quotes from Emily Dickinson:
He lived the Life of AmbushAnd went the way of Dusk
And now against his subtle name
There stands an Asterisk
As confident of him as we --
Impregnable we are --
The whole of Immortality intrenched
Within a star --
Emily Dickinson
That Bells should ring till all should know
A Soul had gone to Heaven
Would seem to me the more the way
A Good News should be given.
Emily Dickinson
I measure every Grief I meet With narrow, probing Eyes I wonder if It weighs like Mine Or has an Easier size.
Emily Dickinson
The saddest noise, the sweetest noise,
The maddest noise that grows, --
The birds, they make it in the spring,
At night's delicious close.
Emily Dickinson
Since then 'tis centuries and yet
Feels shorter than the DAY
I first surmised the horses' heads
Were toward eternity.
Emily Dickinson
At last, the lamps upon thy side
The rest of Life to see!
Emily Dickinson
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