His Labor is a Chant — his Idleness — a Tune — oh, for a Bees experience of Clovers, and of Noon! – Emily Dickinson
Much Madness is divinest Sense — to a discerning Eye — much Sense — the starkest Madness — – Emily Dickinson

His Labor is a Chant — his Idleness — a Tune — oh, for a Bees experience of Clovers, and of Noon! – Emily Dickinson
Much Madness is divinest Sense — to a discerning Eye — much Sense — the starkest Madness — – Emily Dickinson
I am going to learn to make bread tomorrow. So if you may imagine me with my sleeves rolled up, mixing flour, milk, saleratus, etc., with a deal of grace. I advise you if you dont know how to make the staff of life to learn with dispatch. – Emily Dickinson
Drab Habitation of Whom? Tabernacle or Tomb — or Dome of Worm — or Porch of Gnome — or some Elfs Catacomb? – Emily Dickinson