Emily Dickinson

Dying is a wild night and a new road.

the fog is rising.

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

To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee, One clover, and a bee, And revery. The revery alone will do, If bees are few.

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

Of Course - I prayed - And did God Care?

Tell the truth But tell it slant.

A word is dead When it is said, Some say. I say it just Begins to live That day.

What I can do - I will - Though it be little as a Dafofodil - that I cannot - must be Unknown to possibility -

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

Success is counted sweetest by those who ne'er succeed.

Not "Revelation" -- 'tis -- that waits, But our unfurnished eyes--

Nic nie powiedzieć to czasem powiedzieć najwięcej.

Saying nothing sometimes says the most.