Top 500 Emily Dickinson Quotes (2024 Update)
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451. “Morir no es casi nada, algo pasado, pero vivir incluye el morir muchas veces sin tener al alivio de estar muerto.”

— Emily Dickinson

452. “Life is death we’re lengthy at.”

— Emily Dickinson

453. “The soul should always stand ajar.”

— Emily Dickinson

454. “Oh the Earth was made for lovers.”

— Emily Dickinson

455. “Solamente el silencio nos da miedo. En la voz siempre hay algo que nos salva. Sin embargo, el silencio es lo infinito. No se le ve la cara.”

— Emily Dickinson

456. “No weight nor mass nor beauty of execution can outweigh one grain or fragment of thought.”

— Emily Dickinson

457. “The soul unto itself Is an imperial friend, – Or the most agonizing spy An enemy could send. Secure against its own, No treason it can fear; Itself its sovereign, of itself The soul should stand in awe.”

— Emily Dickinson

458. “And so, upon this wise I prayed, – Great Spirit, give to me A heaven not so large as yours, But large enough for me.”

— Emily Dickinson

459. “The thought is quiet as a flake, –.”

— Emily Dickinson

460. “Peril as a possession ‘T is good to bear, Danger disintegrates satiety; There’s Basis there Begets an awe, That searches Human Nature’s creases As clean as Fire.”

— Emily Dickinson

461. “To subdue the bumble-bee!”

— Emily Dickinson

462. “I know some lonely houses off the road.”

— Emily Dickinson

463. “That Love is all there is Is all we know of Love, It is enough, the freight should be Proportioned to the groove.”

— Emily Dickinson

464. “Are nothing to the bee; His separation from his rose To him seems misery.”

— Emily Dickinson

465. “I meant to have but modest needs, Such as content, and heaven;.”

— Emily Dickinson

466. “I looked in windows, for the wealth I could not hope to own.”

— Emily Dickinson

467. “I have not told my garden yet, Lest that should conquer me; I have not quite the strength now To break it to the bee.”

— Emily Dickinson

468. “The silence like an ocean rolled, And broke against my ear.”

— Emily Dickinson

469. “Was dying as he thought, or different; Was it a pleasant day to die, And did the sunshine face his way?”

— Emily Dickinson

470. “He lived where dreams were sown. His presence is enchantment, You beg him not to go; Old volumes shake their vellum heads And tantalize, just so.”

— Emily Dickinson

471. “And only the waves reply.”

— Emily Dickinson

472. “I’ll tell you how the sun rose, – A ribbon at a time.”

— Emily Dickinson

473. “DAWN. When night is almost done, And sunrise grows so near That we can touch the spaces, It ’s time to smooth the hair And get the dimples ready, And wonder we could care For that old faded midnight That frightened but an hour.”

— Emily Dickinson

474. “Oh Susie, I would nestle close to your warm heart, and never hear the wind blow, or the storm beat, again. Is there any room there for me, or shall I wander away all homeless and alone? Thank you for loving me, darling...”

— Emily Dickinson

475. “THE SNOW. It sifts from leaden sieves, It powders all the wood, It fills with alabaster wool.”

— Emily Dickinson

476. “A horror so refined.”

— Emily Dickinson

477. “Fearless the cobweb swings from the ceiling.”

— Emily Dickinson

478. “I thought that storm was brief, – The maddest, quickest by; But Nature lost the date of this, And left it in the sky.”

— Emily Dickinson

479. “The murmur of a bee.”

— Emily Dickinson

480. “There’s been a death in the opposite house.”

— Emily Dickinson

481. “Until the daffodil Unties her yellow bonnet.”

— Emily Dickinson

482. “If you were here, and Oh that you were, my Susie, we need not talk at all, our eyes would whisper for us...”

— Emily Dickinson

483. “As if the chart were given.”

— Emily Dickinson

484. “I mourn this morning, Susie, that I have no sweet sunset to gild a page for you, nor any bay so blue – not even a little chamber way up in the sky, as yours is, to give me thoughts of heaven, which I would give to you. You know how I must write you, down, down, in the terrestrial – no sunset here, no stars; not even a bit of twilight which I may poetize – and send you!”

— Emily Dickinson

485. “They fling their speech By means of it in God’s ear;.”

— Emily Dickinson

486. “REMORSE. Remorse is memory awake, Her companies astir, – A presence of departed acts At window and at door. It’s past set down before the soul, And lighted with a match, Perusal to facilitate Of its condensed despatch. Remorse is cureless, – the disease Not even God can heal; For ‘t is his institution, – The complement of hell.”

— Emily Dickinson

487. “When bumble-bees in solemn flight.”

— Emily Dickinson

488. “If you were coming in the fall, I’d brush the summer by With half a smile and half a spurn, As housewives do a fly. If I could see you in a year, I’d wind the months in balls, And put them each in separate drawers, Until their time befalls. If only centuries delayed, I’d count them on my hand, Subtracting till my fingers dropped Into Van Diemen’s land. If certain, when this life was out, That yours and mine should be, I’d toss it yonder like a rind, And taste eternity.”

— Emily Dickinson

489. “She dropt as softly as a star From out my summer’s eve;.”

— Emily Dickinson

490. “Reeling, through endless summer days, From inns of molten blue.”

— Emily Dickinson

491. “Life is but life, and death but death! Bliss is but bliss, and breath but breath!”

— Emily Dickinson

492. “The thought behind I strove to join Unto the thought before, But sequence ravelled out of reach.”

— Emily Dickinson

493. “It dropped so low in my regard I heard it hit the ground, And go to pieces on the stones At bottom of my mind; Yet.”

— Emily Dickinson

494. “Shadows hold their breath;.”

— Emily Dickinson

495. “This quiet dust was gentlemen and ladies.”

— Emily Dickinson

496. “Ah, brig, good-night To crew and you; The ocean’s heart too smooth, too blue, To break for you.”

— Emily Dickinson

497. “Counts his nectars – enters, And is lost in balms!”

— Emily Dickinson

498. “Not even God can heal; For ‘t is his institution, – The complement of hell.”

— Emily Dickinson

499. “Cherries suit robins;.”

— Emily Dickinson

500. “In this short life, that only last an hour merely. How much how little is within our power.”

— Emily Dickinson