"Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul - and sings the tunes without the words - and never stops at all."
"How happy is the little stone That rambles in the road alone, And doesn't care about careers, And exigencies never fears; Whose coat of elemental brown A passing universe put on; And independent as the sun, Associates or glows alone, Fulfilling absolute decree In casual simplicity."
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Source: Emily Dickinson (2016). “The Collected Poems of Emily Dickinson”, p.169, First Avenue Editions
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