Which one keeps calling?

Poems by Emily Dickinson, Three Series, Complete

Your soul can be an imperial friend—or the most agonizing spy; which will it be for you?

Poems by Emily Dickinson, Three Series, Complete

All I bring today is my heart—and the wide fields and bees; would that be enough?

Little Women

She read two lines and went white as if a bullet had struck—what single telegram could do that?

Little Women

He bent protectingly over her; without a word they both knew she could fill Jo's place—how do silences decide love?

Little Women

There are many Beths—so quiet their love is only noticed after the little cricket stops chirping.

Little Women

They carried Beth in to find a glossy cabinet piano and a letter addressed to 'Miss Elizabeth March'—whose gift is this?

The Prophet

From the plain the mountain is clearer—what in them will absence suddenly make impossible to forget?

The Prophet

Evil is good tortured by hunger—what appetite inside you turns virtue into harm?

The Prophet

The lust for comfort murders the passion of the soul and then walks grinning in the funeral—what are you protecting at that cost?

The Prophet

There are no graves here—what if death is simply a field where ancestors and children dance?

The Prophet

The sea calls me—stay and you'll freeze into a mould; which will you choose, motion or stasis?

The Prophet

Reason is your rudder; passion your sail—if one snaps, where does your life drift?

Essays — First Series

To be great is to be misunderstood—so why worship a comforting consistency that shrinks the soul?

The Prophet

Like mist I walked your streets at night—what would it mean if someone truly knew you that closely?

Essays — First Series

Our brief moments claim a deeper origin than habit—what unseen source keeps rewriting who you are?