His Labor is a Chant — his Idleness — a Tune — oh, for a Bees experience of Clovers, and of Noon! – Emily Dickinson
I like a look of Agony, because I know its true — men do not sham Convulsion, nor simulate, a Throe — – Emily Dickinson

His Labor is a Chant — his Idleness — a Tune — oh, for a Bees experience of Clovers, and of Noon! – Emily Dickinson
I like a look of Agony, because I know its true — men do not sham Convulsion, nor simulate, a Throe — – Emily Dickinson
Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul – and sings the tunes without the words – and never stops at all. – Emily Dickinson
To fight aloud is very brave, but gallanter, I know, who charge within the bosom, the Cavalry of Woe. – Emily Dickinson