Heart, we will forget him, You and I, tonight! You must forget the warmth he gave, I will forget the light.
Emily DickinsonRead
In such a porcelain life, one likes to be sure that all is well lest one stumble upon one's hopes in a pile of broken crockery.
Interpretation
This quote reflects the fragility of life and the need to safeguard our hopes and dreams from disappointment.
Emily Dickinson's quote speaks to the delicate nature of existence, equating life to porcelain—beautiful yet easily shattered. It emphasizes the importance of certainty and security, suggesting that one must take care not to let their aspirations become damaged or lost in the chaos of life's uncertainties, much like finding hopes among broken ceramic pieces.
In practice
This quote can be used in a discussion about the challenges of pursuing one's dreams.
Heart, we will forget him, You and I, tonight! You must forget the warmth he gave, I will forget the light.
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.
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!
My best Acquaintances are those With Whom I spoke no Word
This is the Hour of Lead- Remembered, if outlived, As freezing persons, recollect the Snow- First-Chill-then Stupor- then the letting go---
Luck is not chance, it's toil; fortune's expensive smile is earned.
The sense of unhappiness is so much easier to convey than that of happiness. In misery we seem aware of our own existence, even though it may be in the form of a monstrous egotism: this pain of mine is individual, this nerve that winces belongs to me and to no other. But happiness annihilates us: we lose our identity.
Yes, the world may aspire to vacuousness, lost souls mourn beauty, insignificance surrounds us. Then let us drink a cup of tea. Silence descends, one hears the wind outside, autumn leaves rustle and take flight, the cat sleeps in a warm pool of light. And, with each swallow, time is sublimed.
Existence permeates sexuality and vice versa, so that it is impossible to determine, in a given decision or action, the proportion of sexual to other motivations, impossible to label a decision or act ‘sexual’ or ‘non-sexual’ . There is no outstripping of sexuality any more than there is sexuality enclosed within itself. No one is saved and no one is totally lost.
Rampaging horsemen can conquer; only the city can civilize.
I grew up with a lot of people whose whole prime mover was dad rage. I never really had it - it always seemed so empty. It always seemed to be masking something else, which was really their own lack of initiative.
Deep down, there is in the substance of the cosmos a primordial disposition, sui generis, for self-arrangement and self-involution.
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