Heart, we will forget him, You and I, tonight! You must forget the warmth he gave, I will forget the light.
Emily DickinsonRead
I wonder if it hurts to live, And if they have to try, And whether, could they choose between, They would not rather die.
Interpretation
The quote reflects on the pain and struggles of living versus the desire for death.
Emily Dickinson's quote contemplates the inherent pain associated with life and questions whether those who endure it would choose to live if given the option. It delves into the complex relationship between suffering, existence, and the contemplation of mortality, highlighting the philosophical dilemma of life and death.
In practice
In a discussion on mental health, this quote might be used to highlight the struggles individuals face.
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,β 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.
Unsung, the noblest deed will die.
The redeeming feature of war is that it puts a nation to the test. As exposure to the atmosphere reduces all mummies to instant dissolution, so war passes supreme judgment upon social systems that have outlived their vitality.
To argue about justice is unavoidably to argue about virtues, about substantive moral and even spiritual questions.
The fate of our times is characterized by rationalization and intellectualization and, above all, by the 'disenchantment of the world.' Precisely the ultimate and most sublime values have retreated from public life either into the transcendental realm of mystic life or into the brotherliness of direct and personal human relations. It is not accidental that our greatest art is intimate and not monumental.
There is nothing wrapped in my turban but God.
Once the writer in every individual comes to life (and that time is not far off), we are in for an age of universal deafness and lack of understanding.
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