Hope is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul And... - Emily Dickinson

"Faith—is the Pierless BridgeSupporting what We seeUnto the Scene that We do not—Too slender for the eyeIt bears the Soul as boldAs it were rocked in SteelWith Arms of Steel at either side—It joins—behind the VeilTo what, could We presumeThe Bridge would cease to beTo Our far, vacillating FeetA first Necessity."

"Faith is a fine inventionWhen gentlemen can see,But microscopes are prudentIn an emergency."

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

"To live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else."

"She dealt her pretty words like Blades --How glittering they shone --And every One unbared a NerveOr wantoned with a Bone --She never deemed -- she hurt --That -- is not Steel's Affair --A vulgar grimace in the Flesh --How ill the Creatures bear --To Ache is human -- not polite --The Film upon the eyeMortality's old Custom --Just locking up -- to Die."