Emily Dickinson

And so upon this wise I prayed,--
Great Spirit, give to me
A heaven not so large read more

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

There's a certain Slant of light,
Winter Afternoons--
That oppresses, like the Heft
Of read more

There's a certain Slant of light,
Winter Afternoons--
That oppresses, like the Heft
Of Cathedral Tunes--

Success is counted sweetest by those who never succeed.

Success is counted sweetest by those who never succeed.

Anger as soon as fed is dead — 'Tis starving makes it fat.

Anger as soon as fed is dead — 'Tis starving makes it fat.

How strange that nature does not knock, and yet does not intrude!

How strange that nature does not knock, and yet does not intrude!