Emily Dickinson

(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886 / Amherst / Massachusetts)

Comments about Emily Dickinson

  • Geoff Dunstone (7/14/2016 4:38:00 AM)

    a brilliant and enigmatic poet

    25 person liked.
    24 person did not like.
  • Soul Watcher Soul Watcher (6/22/2016 10:49:00 AM)

    This poet will never come back again

  • Brendan O'Brien (3/12/2016 2:52:00 AM)

    A word is dead when it is said some say
    I say it only starts to live that dayHow wonderfully accurate, and how beautifully stated.

  • Muteesasira Juma Muteesasira Juma (12/26/2015 12:31:00 AM)

    she was really wonderful

  • Fabrizio Frosini Fabrizio Frosini (12/16/2015 5:12:00 AM)

    ''We never know how high we are
    Till we are asked to rise''
    Emily Dickinson (1176)

    beautiful words.. and a great truth..

  • Nirmal Upadhyaya Nirmal Upadhyaya (11/7/2015 11:47:00 AM)

    Emily is one of best poets I adore.

  • Laurie Flynn (8/13/2015 4:41:00 PM)

    To me, Emily Dickinson is one of the most insightful poets, in fact writers, that has even blessed the English language. Her remarkable understanding of emotions and feelings make her pieces timeless and, furthermore, a crutch for those in need of support when they can't quite work out their own. Hopeful yet realistic, beautiful yet dark and even witty, Dickinson is truly a remarkable character and it's reflected in her poetry.

  • Vidura Prabhath Vidura Prabhath (6/23/2015 8:33:00 AM)

    Her poems are inspirational.They appeal to the heart

  • Johan Kwisthout (5/18/2015 4:49:00 AM)

    Can anyone here help me to a source for the quote If you take care of the small things, the big things take care of themselves contributed to Dickinson (I need a source in order to ask for permission to quote if it it still under copyright, e.g., if it is in the Johnson and Franklin editions, but I have no access to them)

  • Gordon Inverno Jr. (4/22/2015 10:08:00 AM)

    My favorite: Because I Could Not Stop for Death

Best Poem of Emily Dickinson

Hope Is The Thing With Feathers

'Hope' is the thing with feathers—
That perches in the soul—
And sings the tune without the words—
And never stops—at all—

And sweetest—in the Gale—is heard—
And sore must be the storm—
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm—

I've heard it in the chillest land—
And on the strangest Sea—
Yet, never, in Extremity,
It asked a crumb—of Me.

Read the full of Hope Is The Thing With Feathers

Ah, Teneriffe!

666

Ah, Teneriffe!
Retreating Mountain!
Purples of Ages—pause for you—
Sunset—reviews her Sapphire Regiment—
Day—drops you her Red Adieu!

Still—Clad in your Mail of ices—

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