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It might be lonelier Without the Loneliness - I’m so accustomed to my Fate - Perhaps the Other - Peace - Would interrupt the Dark - And crowd the little Room - Too scant - by Cubits - to contain The Sacrament - of Him - I am not used to Hope - It might intrude upon - Its sweet parade - blaspheme the place - Ordained to Suffering - It might be easier To fail - with Land in Sight - Than gain - My Blue Peninsula - To perish - of Delight -
Emily Dickinson
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Interpretation

What this quote means

The quote reflects the complexity of loneliness and the relationship between suffering and joy.

Emily Dickinson's quote explores the paradox of loneliness, suggesting that it has become a familiar state that can feel more comfortable than the unpredictable nature of hope and happiness. The speaker considers how the presence of peace and joy might disrupt their habitual suffering, illustrating a struggle between desiring fulfillment and fearing the change that accompanies it, ultimately leading to the contemplation of the ease of failure compared to the potential pain of success.

Themes

LonelinessSufferingHopeJoyChange

In practice

Example use cases

In a speech about mental health, one might say, 'Sometimes we must embrace our loneliness to better understand ourselves, as Emily Dickinson suggests.'

More from Emily Dickinson

Heart, we will forget him, You and I, tonight! You must forget the warmth he gave, I will forget the light.
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I held a jewel in my fingers And went to sleep. The day was warm, and winds were prosy; I said: "'T will keep." I woke and chid my honest fingers,— The gem was gone; And now an amethyst remembrance Is all I own.
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I'll tell you how the sun rose, a ribbon at a time. The steeples swam in amethyst, The news like squirrels ran. The hills untied their bonnets, The bobolinks begun. Then I said softly to myself, "That must have been the sun!
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My best Acquaintances are those With Whom I spoke no Word
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This is the Hour of Lead- Remembered, if outlived, As freezing persons, recollect the Snow- First-Chill-then Stupor- then the letting go---
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Luck is not chance, it's toil; fortune's expensive smile is earned.
Emily DickinsonRead

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