The Soul selects her own Society. - Emily Dickinson, The Complete Poems
"The Soul selects her own Society."
"The Soul selects her own Society."
"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."
"I felt a Cleaving in my Mind—As if my Brain had split—I tried to match it—Seam by Seam—But could not make it fit."
"I stepped from Plank to PlankSo slow and cautiouslyThe Stars about my Head I felt,About my Feet the Sea.I knew not but the nextWould be my final inch —This gave me that precarious GaitSome call Experience."
"I'm nobody! Who are you? Are you nobody, too? Then there ’s a pair of us—don’t tell! They ’d banish us, you know. How dreary to be somebody! How public, like a frog To tell your name the livelong day To an admiring bog!"
"Not knowing when the dawn will comeI open every door."