Longing, it may be, is the gift no other gift supplies.

I would like more sisters, that the taking out of one, might not leave such stillness.

AMPLE make this bed. Make this bed with awe; In it wait till judgment break Excellent and fair. Be its mattress straight, Be its pillow round; Let no sunrise’ yellow noise Interrupt this ground.

A letter always seemed to me like immortality because it is the mind alone without corporeal friend.

That no Flake of [snow] fall on you or them - is a wish that would be a Prayer, were Emily not a Pagan.

The truth I do not dare to know I muffle with a jest.

I am nobody! Who are you? Are you a nobody, too?