Maxioms by Emily Dickinson
Beauty is not caused. It is.
Beauty is not caused. It is.
Inebriate of air am I,
And debauchee of dew,
Reeling, through endless summer days,
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Inebriate of air am I,
And debauchee of dew,
Reeling, through endless summer days,
From inns of molten blue.
Finite to fail, but infinite to venture.
Finite to fail, but infinite to venture.
Find ecstasy in life; the mere sense of living is joy enough.
Find ecstasy in life; the mere sense of living is joy enough.
I must go in, the fog is rising.
I must go in, the fog is rising.
