Maxioms by Emily Dickinson
I must go in, the fog is rising.
I must go in, the fog is rising.
Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion; it is not the expression of personality read more
Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion; it is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality. But, of course, only those who have personality and emotion know what it means to want to escape from these
Much madness is divinest sense
To a discerning eye;
Much sense the starkest madness.
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Much madness is divinest sense
To a discerning eye;
Much sense the starkest madness.
'Tis the majority
In this, as all, prevails
Assent, and you are sane;
Demur,--you're straightway dangerous,
And handled with a chain.
His labor is a chant,
His idleness a tune;
Oh, for a bee's experience
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His labor is a chant,
His idleness a tune;
Oh, for a bee's experience
Of clovers and of noon!
Success is counted sweetest by those who never succeed.
Success is counted sweetest by those who never succeed.
