Emily Dickinson

Finite to fail, but infinite to venture.

Finite to fail, but infinite to venture.

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.

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

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

The mountain at a given distance
In amber lies;
Approached, the amber flits a little,--
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The mountain at a given distance
In amber lies;
Approached, the amber flits a little,--
And that's the skies!

The pedigree of honey
Does not concern the bee;
A clover, any time, to him
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The pedigree of honey
Does not concern the bee;
A clover, any time, to him
Is aristocracy.