The fog is rising. – Emily Dickinson
His mind of man, a secret makes I meet him with a start he carries a circumference in which I have no part. – Emily Dickinson
The fog is rising. – Emily Dickinson
His mind of man, a secret makes I meet him with a start he carries a circumference in which I have no part. – Emily Dickinson
To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee, One clover, and a bee, And revery. The revery alone will do, If bees are few. – Emily Dickinson
You ask of my companions. Hills, sir, and the sundown, and a dog as large as myself that my father bought me. They are better than human beings, because they know but do not tell. – Emily Dickinson