Emily Dickinson

God gave a loaf to every bird, But just a crumb to me.

Our little kinsmen after rain In plenty may be seen, A pink and pulpy multitude The tepid ground upon; A needless life it seemed to me Until a little bird As to a hospitality Advanced and breakfasted.

What fortitude the Soul contains, That it can so endure The accent of a coming Foot- The opening of a Door.

My friends are my estate.

They say God is everywhere, and yet we always think of Him as somewhat of a recluse.

I never saw a moor, I never saw the sea; Yet know I how the heather looks, And what a wave must be. I never spoke with God, Nor visited in heaven; Yet certain am I of the spot As if the chart were given.

Called Back

I measure every Grief I meet With narrow, probing Eyes - I wonder if It weighs like Mine - Or has an Easier size.

To multiply the harbors does not reduce the sea.

"Faith" is a fine invention When Gentleman can see - But Microscopes are prudent In an Emergency